Tuyo

by Neumeier, Rachel

  “I know.” I was silent for a little time. Finally I said, “I will do it. Of course I will do it. What choice do I have?”

  “You have a choice. Royova has a different plan in mind. It might be better than mine, at least for your people. It’s certainly simpler.”

  “What is his plan?” But I knew what it must be. I said, “He would offer you to Lorellan.”

  “In exchange for all the captives, and for Lorellan leaving the winter country. Yes. In the short term, that would probably achieve what Royova wants. In the longer term, it’s problematic. Royova is willing to take that risk. I am not. The threat Lorellan poses to both our peoples is too great. I think we can defeat him, and I think it’s worth almost anything to do that now, before he can establish himself in the summer lands. But you’re the key to putting my much more complicated plan into motion. And I have to admit, even if you agree to let yourself be used this way, my plan could still fail. Overly complicated plans have been the downfall of many, many warleaders.”

  I hardly listened to him. My attention was too taken up by the part of the plan that put me into Lorellan’s hands. I said stiffly, “I said I would do it.” I had said it, and I thought it was true, but I feared I might change my mind. I asked him, “But can you take away my fear? At least for a time?”

  He sighed, a long, slow exhalation. “I can blur the edge of it, for a little while. I’m going to build a shield over your mind. He will break that, but below the shield I’ll set multiple layers of false memories and at least one compulsion. I expect he’ll get through some of that, I intend for him to get through some of it. But I don’t believe he’ll be able to work his way through everything. He may be more powerful than I am, but I think I know what lies he’ll want to believe. Below everything, I’ll set a very deep tie between your mind and mine. That should let me protect you from some things. He will not be able to make you his thrall.” He paused. Then he said, “I will be as gentle as I can, but some of what I do will hurt you. Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I said. And then, “No. But you may do this.”

  I felt my memory begin to change.

  -28-

  I jogged through the snow at a steady, easy pace that I could hold for a long time. It was still snowing and the fresh snow slowed me a little, but I was glad of the overcast sky and falling snow. A Lau would be almost blind on a night like this.

  Lorellan’s palisade had been built in the only good place for such a fortification; flat and wide, the place would become a rocky meadow in the brief warm season. I knew when I came near it by the feel of the trampled snow underfoot and by the cut stumps of the trees that had been felled to make the palisade. I went more slowly then, circling wide to the west so that I would come to the palisade from the west and south. There was a pond there, with the palisade built to enclose the pond. It had not occurred to the Lau that they should guard the stream that fed that pond. Even though they knew Ugaro could bear far more cold than Lau, they did not believe the extent of the difference.

  Upstream of the pond, I took off my coat and boots and then the rest of my clothing. I hid all this, taking only my knife. I broke the ice, breathed deeply and then took one more breath, and went into the water. Even an Ugaro could not find the icy water pleasant, but the cold did not prevent me from pulling myself along the bed of the stream below the ice, under the palisade, and into the pond.

  I came up very quietly and stayed still for a heartbeat and another heartbeat. Then I eased softly out of the water, slid between the nearest tent and the logs of the palisade, squeezed the water from my hair with my hands, wiped the water from my body as well as I could, and edged around the tent to look out at the dark camp. I was almost warm enough, even naked. The air within the palisade was much warmer than the air outside. This much warmth had not come from fires, though many smoldered here and there, all along the rows of the tents. The warmth was something many Lau together had made, working their cantrips. The snow melted as it fell, so underfoot the ground was covered with a mix of beaten slush and water and mud, much more unpleasant than clean snow.

  Most of the Lau were in their tents, asleep. Some went here or there about one task or another. One came to the pond to draw water, and then I had Lau clothing. The boots were impossible, and the shirt was so tight I could not put it on, but the coat was wearable if I left the top buttons undone. I turned up the cuffs of my new clothing and left the shirt behind a tent with the body of the Lau soldier.

  The warriors who were bound, and thus probably not yet Lorellan’s slaves, were held near the opposite side of the palisade. I began to make my way toward them, walking quietly but not trying to sneak. A man’s eye will find threat in a surreptitious movement where he will not notice purposeful motion, and in the dark, the Lau should not see an Ugaro where he should not be, but only the hint of movement. My hands and face were pale, of course, but I put my hands into the pockets of the coat and bowed my head so that any Lau who might glance up might see only a man of his own people, however short and heavily built.

  If Lorellan had been within this palisade, ordinary sight would not have been the danger. But he was not here; he had gone south already, leaving only ordinary men to finish the tasks he had ordered. I did not know why he had gone; I had not asked because I did not care; only that he was not here. I was not afraid of ordinary Lau. I reminded myself of that because for some reason I felt more fear than I should. I tried to put that out of my mind. Even if I failed, nothing more terrible than death waited for me.

  It was so late in the night that I saw only a few Lau going about their business. Sometimes a dark face turned toward me, but I only walked on my way and those faces turned away again, knowing the fortified camp was safe and that no enemy could be here; knowing that no enemy would walk as openly as I did. Once a man called out to me, asking my business. I answered in surly tones, careful of my accent, that I was in a hurry and wanted to get out of the gods-hated cold and what should he care. It was the kind of thing I had heard soldiers say before to that kind of challenge. It must have been right, because the man did not come after me.

  The Ugaro warriors were in the place the scout had said, each man bound separately to a stake driven deeply into the earth. I could not distinguish inKera from inYoraro from inVotaro. I looked for Hokino inKera, but I did not see him.

  But I saw his brother. Soro inKera was older than my father, perhaps seventy winters, but he looked ten years older than that. We Ugaro show our age little until suddenly we show it all at once, and Soro looked like he had come to that time in his life. His weight was less than the last time I had seen him, at the Convocation just this past spring, and his face more lined, and his shoulders had begun to stoop. My father disliked him, and I disliked him because of that, but I did not wish to think of what had made the lord of the inKera age that fast when he was not that old.

  When I looked away from Soro, I finally saw Hokino. He was to one side, standing because of the wet ground, as nearly all the Ugaro were on their feet. Hokino was bound as carefully as the others, and he stood as still, but there was something in his stillness that drew my eye. He was watching me. His attention caught more eyes than mine; other warriors turned their heads to look at me as well. I thought that might be trouble, but then Hokino clicked his tongue in reproof and they began to look away.

  Now my Lau clothing was not useful. But boldness still seemed a reasonable choice. I drew my knife and walked toward Hokino, cutting the thongs that bound the warriors as I went. None of them moved, but I felt the tension in their muscles as their stillness stopped being the stillness of helplessness and became the stillness of patience.

  When I reached him, Hokino said in a low voice, “You are completely stupid, inGara. Brave, but completely stupid. How did you get in? No, do not tell me, but can you get out again?”

  I was impatient with his tone and astonished by his faint-heartedness. “I came in through the pond. If a small number of you make noise, maybe the rest can get
out through the gate, with your women. That would be—”

  “Impossible,” he said sharply. “Do you not realize he has made most of us his dogs and the rest his slaves? Half a heartbeat after he realizes we are not bound, he will have us on our knees, but while his attention is on us, you may get clear.” He caught my arm and shoved me away, but he added, “Perhaps a few of my people might get away, and I would thank you for that, inGara—but you were still completely stupid to come within his reach.”

  I protested, “Lorellan has gone south. He is not here—” Hokino’s expression stopped me, and I said, my stomach knotting and the words coming with difficulty to my tongue, “He has gone south?”

  “No,” Hokino said, almost gently. “Leaving all his men and all his captives? Why would he have done such a thing? Why would you have thought so?”

  I did not know. I had been certain of it, but now I did not remember why. I took a step back from him, but it was too late. I knew it was too late even before I turned, because almost all the captive warriors suddenly went to their knees, exactly as Hokino had warned me. Soro kept his feet, setting his weight and closing his eyes. Hokino did not. He went down with the rest, more slowly than some, fighting the pressure of the sorcerous leash. All his muscles tightened with the effort he made. But he went down.

  I did not run. It was too late to run. I waited where I was, and when Lorellan came himself, I still waited. I felt as though all my bones had turned to ice. I felt as though my mind and heart had turned to ice as well, very clear and still. Above that clarity, a storm of terror and rage and hatred raged; but beneath that, I waited poised in perfect quiet. A Lau soldier came and took my knife. He gripped my arm, and another did the same from the other side, and I did not fight them. They led me forward, and I did not fight. I hardly knew they held me. I hardly knew anyone was here in this moment except myself and Lorellan. I looked at nothing but him: his elegant, narrow Lau face, his warm smile, his cold eyes.

  Gazing at me with amazement, he said, “Ryo inGara. This is—”

  I broke the hold of the man to my right and drove my elbow into the stomach of the man to my left. He let me go with a whoosh of breath, bending involuntarily, and I slammed the back of my fist into his throat, felt the cartilage crunch under my blow, and forgot him immediately. I could see nothing but Lorellan. I had my knife in my hand again. Blood had spattered across my face and arm, and I knew, distantly, that I had gutted the Lau on my right, but I had not really noticed and did not really remember and did not care at all. Lorellan filled all my view. He was backing up, raising his arms, his mouth opening and closing, but to me he seemed to move very slowly and I heard nothing. Lau soldiers put themselves in my way and I ducked and drove my fist in a hammerblow against the chest of one and felt his ribs give; I slashed my knife across the side of another soldier, then dropped my knife, caught it with my left hand, bent, and thrust it into the belly of another man. I lost the knife then, but I did not care because I had the Lau’s sword. I was almost to Lorellan—

  —an Ugaro warrior hit me from the side, using his weight to slam me down. I hit the ground hard, bucked, twisted, threw him off, and staggered back up to my feet. But another was there before I could catch my balance. I had lost the sword, which did not matter, I would get another, or a knife, or I could use my bare hands, except the warrior threw his weight against me, and the first one was back, flinging himself against me from the other side, bearing me down again. I fought them with concentrated fury. Neither of the Ugaro who fought me had a knife, but weapons surrounded me, I only had to get clear of them for an instant—Lorellan was still close, I could still kill him, I only needed to get up—

  —the silence of my mind shattered, and I was myself again. I was breathing in ragged gasps, and my side burned where someone had cut me. The warriors who held me had pulled my arms up so hard that my shoulders screamed with pain; I had not noticed that any more than the cut. Now I felt it. I stopped fighting them, arching my back to try to take the pressure off my shoulders.

  “That’s better,” Lorellan said. He sounded breathless, which might have been satisfying, except he was still alive and I was his captive. The terror I had hardly felt a moment earlier crashed through me. I would have given anything to have the cold stillness back again, but it was gone. The warriors eased their grip, but I did not move, except to lower my arms. I could not bear to look at him.

  “Ryo,” he said, his tone cautious. Then, when I did not move, he repeated my name, this time with brisk confidence.

  Raising my gaze to meet his was perhaps not the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life, but it was very, very hard.

  “That was a very interesting compulsion,” he said to me, or perhaps more to himself. “If you had been a few feet closer to me before I said your name, it might have enabled you to kill me. Instead, it nearly got you killed, and for nothing. He should have keyed it differently. To proximity, perhaps. Did he not know how to do that?”

  I wished fervently it had gotten me killed, if not him. I was shivering. I could not stop, even though I knew Lorellan could see it. I wished I were Lau and could claim that I was cold.

  Lorellan continued to study me. He said thoughtfully, “But setting the compulsion below the level of animal emotion, and wrapping it up in that kind of extreme focus ... that was very interesting. I might be glad you didn’t kill him. He might be worth taking alive, if I can. I wonder if he would let you near him now? I doubt he would believe you escaped.”

  I bowed my head, concentrating on stopping the shivering that beset me. That was a small thing. I should be able to do that. I reminded myself that Hokino could probably see me, that Soro certainly could, that I was surrounded by Ugaro warriors, that they could all see me trembling. But I still could not stop.

  “How did he make you save him?” Lorellan asked me. “How did he get past the compulsions I set into your mind? I suppose it doesn’t matter. What is he planning now? Not just to send you after me; that wouldn’t make any sense at all. He has to have deeper plans than that.” He stared at me. I could not meet his eyes. The wet slush had soaked through my clothing. My bare feet were cold. Perhaps I was shivering from cold after all.

  “Bind his hands, hobble his feet, and bring him to my tent,” Lorellan told his people. He looked at the warriors he had made his slaves and they pulled me up. They bound me as he had said and took me to his tent and forced me down, facing him, and there was nothing I could do to prevent them.

  The tent was plain, but there was a table and a chair. Lorellan sat there, with a goblet of hot wine cradled in his hands, and looked at me. I knew he was looking into my mind, but there was nothing I could do to prevent that either. I felt a little less afraid. I knew he had done that, that he was trying to make me less afraid so that he could see my thoughts more clearly. I doubted he had everything as he wished: the fear was set too deeply in my heart for him to smother it.

  My father had said that would be so. I had forgotten he had said it. I remembered it now. I had forgotten because Aras had put lies into my mind and the lies had covered over that truth. I remembered that now because Lorellan took the lie out of my mind. I had told Aras he could do it. I had told him he could put the compulsion into my mind and make me forget Lorellan was here ... I could not stop myself from remembering that.

  But the plan had failed.

  “It wasn’t the real plan,” Lorellan told me. “Though I’m sure he’d have been very pleased if you’d managed it. But what is the real plan?” He looked at me some more, frowning.

  I tried to think of nothing. That was hopeless. I thought about the Ugaro he had made into dogs and slaves and rage came into my heart along with the fear.

  “Calm yourself,” Lorellan ordered me. “Or I’ll put ten of your people to death. Deep breaths, Ryo. Think about Aras. Tell me out loud what he plans.”

  The captive warriors were not my people. They were inKera and inYoraro and inVotaro. But I did not want to see Lorellan put t
hem to death. I took deep breaths and thought about quiet snow falling. It did not help very much, I was too afraid and still very angry, but Lorellan said, “Better. What does he plan?”

  I did not know what he planned.

  “You do. He’s made you forget. He’s also put a second shield into your mind below the first ... he’s made your fear and anger into a kind of shield rather than a kind of compulsion. That’s very interesting. He’s more powerful than any other sorcerer I’ve encountered, but it’s more interesting to me that he’s come up with such clever techniques. I wonder if he learned this from the Lakasha-erra? Either way, his plan will certainly be more subtle than turning you loose with a direct compulsion to kill me. What is it?” He looked at me for a little while longer and then sighed and said to one of his people, “Ircaras, have the lord of the inKera brought here: I’m going to have his own men strangle him if Ryo doesn’t begin cooperating—”

  “No,” I protested. “Do you think that would make me less angry?” A thought came to me and I said quickly, “Let him go, let ten of the inKera go. The ten youngest. Or ten of the Ugaro women, if you will not release warriors. That will make me feel better. Maybe then you will be able to see what you wish.”

  Lorellan stared at me. Then he laughed. He told me, “After I see what I need to see, I’ll let ten of the women go. Think of that, Ryo. Deep breaths. Calm yourself.”

  I tried to do as he said, though I was certain he lied. He was not lying about forcing his inKera slaves to murder their lord, I was certain of that too, but I tried not to think of it. I fixed my gaze on the floor of the tent and breathed deeply and slowly, as he had ordered.

  “You gave him permission to do this to you. Think about that, Ryo. Obviously he has a deep hold on you, but it’s ludicrous to think you owe him anything. Look at how he’s used you . . .” He leaned back, cursing under his breath. That had not helped him at all. Even I could feel how my surge of anger at his words had strengthened the protections Aras had put into my mind. I thought I could feel that. I told myself I could feel it.