The Dead Falcon (The Eastern Slave Series Book 4)

by Victor Poole

  "I don't want to run," Leed said. "I want to fight."

  Ajalia did not know what to say to this. She thought of the first man she had killed, and of the second. She could see, in Leed's eyes, that he was not careful enough about the reality of death. She thought that she would have to bring him down to reality, before she gave him a knife.

  "I'm not a little boy," Leed said, and she saw that he had read her expression. "I'm not going to go around stabbing people. I just want to feel dangerous," he said, and she saw that he was afraid.

  "If you are afraid of your uncle in your heart," Ajalia told Leed, "you will never win against him, knife or no knife." Leed glared at her.

  "I don't want to hear that," he snapped.

  "I was afraid of someone," she told him, "but I never killed him. I never even fought him, but I am not afraid of him any longer. When you are afraid," she said, "it shows in your eyes. People like your uncle," she told him, "prey on that fear."

  "Well, you should have fought back," Leed told her impatiently.

  "He would have won," Ajalia said, and she was thinking of her brother, Gabriel, and of the bruises she had worn on her legs and her back for so long.

  "That's stupid," Leed said aggressively. "I want to win." He looked at Ajalia with anger in his eyes. "You win all the time," he said accusingly.

  "I never won against my brother," Ajalia said shortly. Leed looked at her, and his mouth drew into a tight line.

  "Why not?" he asked finally.

  "I was little, and he was bigger than me," Ajalia said simply.

  "But you just told me you could see the violence," Leed challenged. "You told me I would be able to win."

  "I told you that you could learn to run away when fighting was pointless," Ajalia reminded him. Leed's lips puckered.

  "Is that what you did?" he asked. Slowly, Ajalia nodded. "Well, where is your brother now?" Leed asked.

  "I don't know," Ajalia said. "I never went back." Leed's face curled in irritation.

  "You should have gone back," Leed told her. "You have to go back and win."

  "Why?" Ajalia asked. "He is an awful man now, I'm sure. He is narrow inside. If my mother lives," she added, "my brother is cursed with her, and eaten up by her. If I had killed my brother," Ajalia told Leed, "first, I would have failed, because he is far more vicious than I am, and second, I would have been caught, and I would have been punished, and perhaps I would have been executed by the leaders of my village." She looked at Leed, and Leed met her eyes, rebellious indignation in his face. "If you want to hunt big game," she told him quietly, "you will have to learn to swim very deep, and you will have to learn more than I know."

  Leed watched her eyes, and he nodded slowly.

  "Did you kill anyone here?" Leed asked her. His eyes were guarded; Ajalia thought he was trying to see if she would lie to him. She looked around her carefully, more for Leed's benefit than for her own, and then she nodded. "Who?" Leed asked eagerly. The blood had rushed up into his neck, and his eyes were sharp.

  "Lim tried to kill me, and now he is dead," Ajalia said.

  "Everyone said Delmar did that," Leed said at once. His eyes were fixed on her face, and his mouth was hard, like iron.

  "What I tell you," Ajalia said, "is different to what I usually say." She waited, and Leed, after a moment, nodded.

  "I will pretend that I have never heard this," the boy told her. She watched his eyes.

  "Lim," she said. "An old witch. The late Thief Lord's wife. And Beryl."

  The color had mounted up in Leed's cheeks; he was watching her avidly.

  "Delmar's mother?" he asked quietly. Ajalia nodded.

  Leed's eyes moved carefully over her face; the boy looked up once again at her hair. Ajalia thought Leed had not known that she had been dyeing it. Her long and waving locks were fading from black to a deep brown. Leed looked thoughtful, and still. He looked as though he had aged three years, in the last few moments.

  "I knew about Beryl," Leed said.

  "Everyone knows about Beryl," Ajalia said, her mouth twisting into a wry snarl. Leed grinned at her, but his eyes were somber now.

  "I'll watch Coren for you," Leed said, and he turned and walked into the shadows of the dragon temple. Ajalia went and got the long sack of things that Coren had stolen. She carried the sack to the steps, where the darkness was quickly spreading, and sat down. Bain, she thought with a sigh of contentment, would not come back to bother her again. She dug out the small golden knife she had hidden in her bag long ago, and took the matching gold ring from its pocket. She turned them over in her hands, examining the inscriptions in the deep twilight. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Isacar drawing near.

  "The boy told me he was on guard duty," Isacar told Ajalia. For the third time, Ajalia felt a rush of relief. Isacar produced a wonderfully soothing sensation in the cockles of her heart. In him, she thought, she had found a kind of soothing domestic god.

  "Let me tell you what I want from you," she told Isacar, and the young man sat down at once on a step, a little lower than she was, so that she would not have to lift her face to speak to him. Isacar, Ajalia told herself, was thoughtful. "Daniel is the head of my household," she told the young man. "He should be upstairs now, with the other boys."

  "I saw him, I think," Isacar said. Ajalia thought of the stir that the bound Coren would cause among her household boys, and she smiled.

  "Daniel handles the money to take care of the others," Ajalia said, "and the boys know to obey him. I need to establish a steady rhythm in the house. I would like the boys to read, and to write in a clear hand, and I am not sure yet where Delmar will live."

  "Was the Thief Lord staying here?" Isacar asked, and Ajalia's mind tripped a little, going to Simon before settling on Delmar. Delmar, she thought with satisfaction, was already the Thief Lord in the people's hearts.

  "I was preparing him for the change in government," Ajalia said. "In any case, we can expect to entertain a good deal."

  "Has anything been arranged in the kitchen?" Isacar asked, and again, Ajalia sighed.

  "Daniel is an excellent boy," she said, "but he is young. They have struggled a little, and I have not yet made time to educate them."

  "What else do you need me to do?" Isacar asked. Ajalia regarded the young man carefully.

  "Have you any other loyalties?" she asked him.

  "I am an opportunist," he said simply. "I see what is before me, in your employ."

  "Good," Ajalia said. "Take what I've given you, and choose a room for yourself. You can add what you like, as far as furnishings go, within your own room. The temple," she said, waving a hand at the large building behind her, "abounds in small rooms." Isacar nodded, and leaned a little bit forward.

  "Is there any business that I can do for you?" he asked. Ajalia smiled at the young man.

  "I think that I like you," she said, "but I will prove you before I trust you. I do not yet know the picture you have, for the whole of your life."

  "Would such a picture make you trust me more?" Isacar asked. He looked ready to spill open his heart to her, if he thought it would further him in her favor. Ajalia told herself that Isacar was going to be honest with her, if he understood what she was asking.

  "I think," she said, "that you want very much for me to like you, and to grow attached to your service in my house." She watched Isacar, and he sat without moving, his eyes fixed steadily on her. "I don't know what you want yet," Ajalia told him. "If you are motivated by money, that is one thing, but if there is some twist in your heart for a person, about whom I know nothing, then I will find you less than satisfactory."

  Isacar shifted gently, and Ajalia saw that there was something to what she had said, about there being a person.

  "Who is it?" Ajalia asked. Isacar looked a little guilty.

  "I don't want to talk about her," he said. "I'd rather not cause trouble."

  "I am happiest," Ajalia told him, "when I am surrounded by contented and whole people
. Now that I have said this, and you have changed the expression on your face, I can see that there is a shadow in your heart. This shadow in your heart will, in the end, become a distraction to me."

  "It's my business," Isacar said. He looked uncomfortable, and a little scared.

  "When you work for me," Ajalia said, stretching out her legs with a sigh, "it is also my business."

  Isacar watched her, and she saw that he was no longer quite sure about her. He looked as though he was doubting her sense, or her business ability.

  "This was not so," Isacar said gradually, "with Tree." Ajalia shrugged easily.

  "Tree was a monster," she said. Isacar looked at her.

  "That sounds a little harsh," he suggested. Ajalia turned an eye on the young man.

  "Why is that harsh?" she asked him frankly. Isacar twisted a little on the step. He had begun to look like a small child who is being questioned, and does not know what he can say that will please.

  "Well," Isacar hedged, "he was very old."

  "Does the fact of aging make one good?" Ajalia asked. Isacar's face wrinkled.

  "No," he admitted.

  "Then does Tree's age make him able to use others at will? Do his years absolve him from all obligation to act in a socially-building manner?" Ajalia asked. She leaned her elbows back on the steps behind her, and gradually stretched out her back.

  "You talk in a very strange way," Isacar said cautiously, as though he feared to offend her.

  "You will learn to think for yourself," Ajalia told him, "if you stay with me."

  Isacar shifted again, and his eyes moved to Ajalia's hands. She had the golden things in her fingers.

  "I did not think that ring was of any importance," Isacar said.

  "It's from Saroyan, I think," Ajalia said. She yawned, and tilted her head from side to side to stretch out her neck. Delmar, she thought would be back soon enough, and she smiled up at the night sky. The rising moon was gradually filling up the air with cold blue light.

  "Is Saroyan important to you?" Isacar asked. He was watching her, and an inscrutable look was in his eyes. Ajalia glanced over at him.

  "All the trade agreements with Saroyan will have to be renewed," Ajalia told him, "and Delmar will have to send someone there, to explain."

  "Explain what?" Isacar asked, frowning. "I thought you would tell me what my job is," he explained, his mouth drawn down at the corners.

  "I am doing that," Ajalia said. "I am taking the scenic route, and I am getting to know the way you think." Isacar looked a little disturbed at this. He sat up straighter, and his breath drew in more sharply. His expression said that he would have behaved differently, if he had known she was judging him.

  "I hope I have not offended you," Isacar said, a little stiffly.

  "Delmar will have to send someone to Saroyan," Ajalia told him, "so that the leaders in Saroyan do not have to hear about the change in Thief Lords from gossip and rumors. Sending an emissary lends legitimacy to Delmar's claim, and also," she added, "when the full story is explained, Delmar comes out looking very good, and Simon looks very bad indeed. The end result will be, in the best scenario, that the rulers of Saroyan will feel enormously relieved that Simon is dead, they will anticipate a productive and satisfactory relationship with Delmar, trade will become more vigorous, and Slavithe will have shown itself to be a civilized land full of non-barbarians."

  Isacar moved a little on the steps. He was frowning at the moonlight that fell over the ground.

  "Do other places think that we are barbarians?" he asked her, glancing at the foreign cut of her robe.

  "Your people believe in magic," Ajalia said, "and you hunt witches, and pay fealty to a man who calls himself a thief."

  Isacar shifted again; he was beginning to look a little as though he needed to go to the bathroom. Ajalia smiled at him, and he frowned.

  "But that's traditional," Isacar said.

  "Delmar will behave with far more sophistication than his father, or grandfather," Ajalia told the young man. "And," she added, stretching out her arms, "he will establish open trade, and show himself to be a sensible and wise ruler. People will not think you are barbarians for very long, once Delmar has established permanent ambassadors, and open trade."

  "I had not thought of any of these things," Isacar admitted. He glanced swiftly at Ajalia. "Is that bad?" he asked. "Do you like me less now?" Ajalia pretended that she hadn't heard the question. She replaced the golden ring, and the small golden knife, in her bag, and turned a little towards Isacar.

  "Who is this woman?" she asked, as though she was continuing a seamless topic. Isacar glanced at her, and he looked again as though he had done something wrong.

  "I don't want her to be in trouble," Isacar said carefully. Ajalia was glad that he had not lied, or pretended not to know what she meant. The young man, she told herself, was not a fool, or a coward.

  "Is she a relative?" Ajalia asked. Isacar shook his head. His eyes were guarded.

  "I have told her," Isacar said, "that I will marry her, when I am able."

  "How old is she?" Ajalia asked. Isacar looked offended.

  "Old enough," he said.

  "And how old are you?" Ajalia asked. Isacar regarded her with deep suspicion in his eyes.

  "Why do you want to know?" Isacar asked. "Are you going to fire me now?" he asked.

  "No," Ajalia said. Isacar studied her, and he looked as though he was trying to find something in her eyes.

  "I'm twenty-two," Isacar said.

  "And what is your wife's situation?" Ajalia asked. Isacar's chin made a slight movement; he frowned again.

  "I have told you," he said, "that I haven't been able to marry her yet."

  "But you mean to," she said. Isacar nodded.

  "So what is your wife's situation?" Ajalia asked.

  "I don't know why I should tell you that," Isacar said. He ignored her use of the word "wife"; he seemed to think that Ajalia was being obtuse on purpose.

  "You should tell me," Ajalia said, "because if she is honest, and kind, and has any sense, she can come and live here, and work for me."

  Isacar looked as though his brain had shut down. At first his eyes were blank, but then his lips pressed together, and his jaw hardened.

  "You are planning to use me," Isacar said. "This is a trick," he said, and he sounded sad. "Everything good that happens to me is a trick." Ajalia was sure that Isacar was thinking of Tree. She thought that he must have been overjoyed when he had first gotten his position there, before he had found out what a rotter the old man really had been. Isacar sighed; he sounded resigned now. "Her name is Fashel," Isacar said. "She is a servant in a rich man's house. We are saving to pay off her debts, but now," Isacar said heavily, "she will never be free."

  "Why won't she be free?" Ajalia asked. Isacar looked at her with annoyance.

  "Because you'll go and buy her debts," Isacar said sourly, "and then she will work for you, and you will interfere between us. I should not have told you about her," he said.

  "I won't do any of those things," Ajalia said. Isacar looked angrily at her.

  "Yes you will," he said. "You told me just now that you would have her to live here."

  "You have no debts, do you?" Ajalia asked the young man. He shook his head cautiously. "And I am paying you," she suggested, "to work for me."

  "That was the idea," Isacar said. He looked as though he could not guess what she was getting at. His mouth was still turned in an unhappy frown.

  "Does Fashel have anything of her own?" Ajalia asked. "Any trinket, or bauble? Anything that she values?" Isacar still looked lost; he was looking at her as a man might look at a babbling monkey, who screeches and laughs in a tree.

  "Fashel has a necklace," Isacar said slowly. "It was of too little value to be sold, when her father died."

  "And what money does she owe?" Ajalia asked. Isacar seemed to have caught on now to what Ajalia meant.

  "You can't buy her necklace," Isacar said.

&nb
sp; "Why can't I?" Ajalia asked him. Isacar's nose had curled in disdain.

  "Because that would be cheating," he said.

  "I would be buying something that I want," Ajalia said. "She would be selling something she holds dear."

  "The necklace is not very valuable," Isacar insisted.

  "You are valuable," Ajalia told Isacar. "You have great value to me, and to my business. I have been looking for a young person just like you for weeks now, without success. I want you to work for me, and to have a free heart."

  "What does my heart have to do with anything?" Isacar demanded.

  "I am doing many ticklish things," Ajalia said.

  "Like what?" Isacar demanded, interrupting her.

  "I am doing many things that you do not understand," Ajalia said patiently. "My kind of work requires peace, and quiet in my home."

  "So?" Isacar asked.

  "You living apart from your wife, and worrying over her living situation, creates a wrinkle in my home," Ajalia said. "I could get rid of you, and thereby eliminate the wrinkle, or I could smooth out the wrinkle another way." Isacar looked as though he was thinking about this.

  "And the wrinkle is Fashel?" Isacar asked. Ajalia told herself that he was deciding whether or not to be offended at her attitude towards his beloved.

  "The wrinkle is your worry over her," Ajalia said. "I want you in my house. I want your brain, and your spirit, and your efficiency. I can have none of those things, unless I find a way to eliminate the shadow that lies in you now."

  "And the shadow is my worry over Fashel, and our future," Isacar said slowly.

  "Yes," Ajalia said. "Also," she added, "I like to buy happiness, when I can. It brings me satisfaction. The necklace is worth a lot to Fashel," she added. "I do not think she would part with it lightly."

  "No," Isacar agreed, "she would not."

  "So I will be spending my money on something that I want to buy," Ajalia said, "and Fashel will be selling something that is worth a great deal to her. I fail to see," Ajalia said mildly, "how anyone will be cheated."

  "Well," Isacar said, "when you explain it like that."

  "Go to your wife," Ajalia said. "Find the man or woman who owns her, and explain that the Thief Lord recognizes their importance to the welfare of the city, and wishes, in the ways of his fathers, to take into his home a remembrance of their house."