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The Courier's Conflict

Page 5

by T. S. Valmond


  Rasha used her strength to push back and knock the sword from Ladi’s hands. It landed with a clank. Ladi marched over to pick it up.

  “Whoa, where did that come from?” Ladi asked.

  “Sorry. I’m just somewhere else today,” Rasha said, shaking her head.

  “I know where your mind is. just forget about it. Who cares if he’s married? He wants to be here with you.” Ladi shrugged a shoulder.

  Ladi picked up her sword and came at Rasha with renewed vigor. This time Ladi finished with her face pinned to the mat by Rasha’s foot. Rasha offered her a hand up, and they started again.

  “Oh, you mean ignore that he’s married to someone else. Dream about him being with me the way you do?” Rasha swung the sword, punctuating her words with the clash of steel. She spun away from Ladi’s next attack.

  Ladi let out a war cry as she threw her sword with all her might at Rasha. Rasha had to move fast to avoid it. Ladi was angry now, too. Angry at Rasha. They continued practicing hard, throwing taunts at each other for well over an hour.

  “Good.” Rasha said as she returned her sword to the wall.

  “Thanks,” Ladi replied, still breathing hard.

  “You’ll be better after you graduate from the Courier’s Keep.”

  “I’ve got a criminal record. If I put in a year with you, they might consider making me official.” Ladi said with a shrug.

  Rasha laughed. “That’s what you think? Working with me will get you a license? You have a wild imagination. No wonder crime comes so easily to you.”

  “It’s not always easy, but I’ve learned how to turn a no into a yes.”

  “We’ll see when you’re dealing with the robot at Courier Central. Without credentials, they won’t consider you. They won’t even acknowledge you exist without training. You should go to the academy while you can.”

  “What does that mean?” Ladi asked, sitting up straight.

  “I mean we’re losing this war. I don’t know how much longer we can hold out against the beasts. We’re badly outnumbered, and we may not survive the winter,” Rasha said grimly.

  * * *

  Ladi seemed somber as she considered what that might mean. Then she brightened.

  “But if we find the traitor, we might get ahead of them for a change. They won’t defeat us again.”

  “Perhaps,” Rasha sighed. “We’re running out of time and options.”

  “If my brother were here, what would he say?” Ladi asked.

  It was like that sometimes with her. She’d be laughing or talking about something, and her brother entered her thoughts. Rasha recognized it; it happened to her sometimes too. She’d see someone that looked like him, or hear a familiar laugh, and, for an instant, believe it was Lu.

  “He’d say we’re going to defeat those beasts and win this war, but not sitting around on the floor.”

  Rasha stood up and put out a hand for Ladi.

  “Is everything in place?”

  “Yes. The trap is set, and I’m just waiting for our false friend to take the bait. He’s going to bite.”

  “He?” Rasha asked.

  “I don’t think a woman would do this.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “You have a suspect in mind.” It wasn’t a question.

  Rasha nodded. “I think it might be the mermaid.”

  “Keabasi?”

  “She’s part fish. It’s not beast, but an alliance between them wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Exactly.” Ladi shook her head. “It’s too obvious.”

  Rasha hoped it wasn’t her, but if it was, she’d need more evidence to prove it. Either way, whoever was betraying them would pay. Her nightmare, Jak holding his hands over his bleeding belly, flashed in her mind. She had to shake of the foreboding that accompanied the vision.

  14

  RASHA FINALLY SLIPPED OUT of her boots at ten that evening. She’d done her best to prepare the fighters for the new tactics. She craved a long soak and dipped her hand into the waiting bath with a sigh. Rasha thanked the Universal for the hot water. She was loosening her vest when Temi’s menacing growl got her attention. She cracked the bathroom door open to see Temi pacing.

  “What is it?” She talked to Temi as if he’d reply. Lu had started it, and she’d grown accustomed to it.

  Temi pawed at the bare floor, pushing his nose to the small crack under the door to the corridor. He snorted and growled again.

  “Who’s there?” Rasha wondered if anyone would answer. Temi grew more agitated.

  “Okay, we’ll check,” she told him as she retrieved her swords. “Let’s introduce Blade and Cutter to some new friends.” Temi stepped back, allowing Rasha to ease the door open. As soon as it was wide enough, he bolted past her and down the corridor.

  Rasha let out her own growl and raced after him. Servants screamed and leapt out of the way as he charged down the hall, snarling. A full tray of food ended up on the floor. She leapt over the food and broken dishes, cursing her bare feet. Temi turned down a second corridor Rasha recognized as belonging to the councilmembers. The floor got even colder, and she felt the biting cold of an open window. Skidding to a stop, Temi growled and whined to get at something on the other side of a door. She heard the sounds of a loud argument of some sort.

  Temi scratched and pawed at the door. When had his paws gotten so big? she wondered. He’d scratched off much of the door’s paint before someone answered.

  Kyuk. The councilman from Buku. He replaced Bashir’s father, the king, on the council.

  “Hey!” Temi plowed past him and into the room.

  Rasha had barely registered the man’s silky pajamas before Temi reached the balcony doors and burst through them.

  “Temi, wait!”

  Temi was growling, his teeth latched on to something. Then came the sound of wings beating frantically and a screech that echoed through the night air. Through the open door, Rasha saw a birdman in flight. Temi blew out a mouthful of red, green, and blue feathers.

  “There!” she called to the archers and pointed at the birdman. The archers scanned the sky, but the birdman had made good his escape. Rasha turned her attention to the traitor.

  Kyuk was backed against the wall. Temi was low to the ground, ready to pounce, snarling savagely.

  “Good boy, Temi,” she said. She drew her swords and crossed them in front of the councilman’s neck.

  His skin was light pink, a blending of Chilali and humanoid. His hair was more yellow than white and hanging in his sweaty face.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You consorted with the enemy, and that’s treason.”

  “Rasha!” Xeku entered the room with Keabasi and Gungbe.

  “What’s going on here?” Gungbe asked.

  “Rasha, no!” Keabasi shouted.

  Everyone was speaking at once, their voices creating a layer of noise that faded away into Rasha’s memories. The blood-covered dining room she no longer ate in. Her best friend dying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

  “You killed them,” she said her lips twisted in a snarl. Kyuk whimpered as her swords dug into his neck.

  Xeku put an arm around her shoulder and broke the spell she was in.

  “That’s enough, Rasha. We’ll take it from here,” he said in an even tone.

  Rasha stepped back, and Buku slumped with relief. Keabasi yelled, “Guard!” and two guards came running. “Please escort councilman Kyuk to a cell.”

  They dragged Kyuk from the room in his silk bathrobe, weeping.

  Rasha started to calm down as soon as he left the room.

  “Are you all right?” Keabasi asked. “I thought you’d taken leave of your senses for a moment.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied.

  “Tell us what happened. What did you see?” Xeku asked.

  “I followed Temi here. He can smell the beasts, you know. He tore out of my room in this direction. When we got here, he tried to claw his way through the door.
When Kyuk finally opened it, Temi ran into the room and out to the balcony. He got a piece of the birdman before it escaped.”

  “It would seem Kyuk was the traitor,” Gungbe said.

  “Perhaps,” said Xeku. He didn’t sound convinced.

  “We found him with the birdman in his room,” Rasha said.

  “The birdman was on the balcony, you said.” Xeku reminded her.

  “Yes, but–”

  “He must be questioned,” Keabasi said.

  “Why don’t you believe me?”

  “It’s not a question of believing you. We have procedures to follow, young one. We can’t just go around killing everyone we suspect is a traitor.” Gungbe laughed as if he’d said something funny.

  His laughter grated on her frayed nerves.

  Xeku said, “You should rest. You look like you’re not getting enough sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day. I suspect that the birdman escaping is bad for our plans. We’ll need to decide on strategy before dawn, in case the beasts attack.”

  Rasha swallowed her anger.

  “I should be the one to interrogate the traitor.”

  “That’s not the best idea, I think,” Keabasi said condescendingly. “Without Jak around you seem, shall we say, more volatile.”

  Rasha glared at her.

  How typical of them to expect results from her while dismissing her ideas. They’d caught him, so why didn’t they make an example of him? What did Jak have to do with anything?

  “I don’t give a flying fig about Jak.” Rasha had enough and went off to her rooms.

  15

  AS JAK GOT CLOSER to home, the change in the air and the familiar terrain beneath his tuskin’s hooves filled him with nostalgia. The old way of life that his mother clung to was in evidence all around him. Everything fit together and belonged, including himself. Ebere had been quiet most of the journey, but now he seemed to want to talk.

  “The grassy plains are yellow here. I like it. The way the ground meets the sky, making you feel small compared to the world around you.”

  “It’s because we are small,” Jak said. His childhood home looked small too. Smaller than he remembered. Every time he returned it seemed a bit shabbier. The roof needed work. The door still squeaked on the hinges. He’d have to deal with that sometime.

  The interior of the house was dark, just a thin ray of light streaming in from the kitchen window. But his mother’s room was bright. Someone had pulled back the window coverings to let the light in.

  Jak dropped his pack at the door, and in just three long strides he reached his mother’s bedroom door. He opened without knocking, and she opened her eyes.

  Jola Ostari had once been a beauty. Even as sick as she was now, lying in bed, wasting away to nothing, her high cheekbones and blue eyes drew you in.

  “Mother, I’m here.” Jak knelt at her bedside and picked up her hand.

  “Jak. My sweet boy.” Jola coughed for a long moment. “News of you travels far and wide. I heard about your new status, and your betrothal.”

  Jak glanced back and saw Ebere had not followed him into the room. In fact, he’d quietly closed the door, giving them some privacy.

  “Mother, I must tell you, everything is not as it appears.”

  His mother reached out and took his hand.

  “You can be whatever you want to be. I never meant to—” She stopped to cough again. Jak stood up and found her water on the bedside table. She drank it all and asked for more. Then drank half of the second one. When she’d caught her breath, her voice was raspy and weak. “I never meant for you to live the life of a wanderer. Only to prevent them from trying to control you the way they did your father.”

  “Them?”

  “His parents,” Jola said. She squeezed his hand hard enough to take him by surprise and pulled him closer. “About your father.”

  “He’s not my father,” Jak said.

  “Listen. You need to hear the truth. I loved your father, and he loved me too, once. It wasn’t what you were led to believe.”

  “Why? Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asked.

  “My stubborn pride.” She coughed for a half minute. “At first I was angry he’d chosen the council over me. Then when I got sick, I didn’t want him to come here. Better he remember me as I was.” She half laughed and coughed again.

  “You’re beautiful, Mother, as always.” Jak rested his palm on her cheek.

  She continued, “I knew I was dying. It wouldn’t have been fair. He’s a good man.”

  Jak didn’t want to listen to any more of this. He must have rolled his eyes because she squeezed his hand even harder.

  “Don’t punish him forever, the way I did. It was a mistake.”

  Another painful coughing fit. When it eased, she dropped his hand and closed her eyes.

  “So tired.”

  “Yes, rest now,” he said. He adjusted her pillows and pulled the blanket up to her chin to stop her shivering. The water was low, and he left to refill the pitcher.

  Jak found Ebere seated at the kitchen table scanning one of his devices.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you like that.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself. I’m fine. How is your mother?”

  “She doesn’t have long,” Jak said. “I’m just glad I’m here.”

  “Someone’s coming,” Ebere said, his head tilted and his eyes on the door.

  Jak waited a moment, the glass pitcher still in his hand. The door swung open.

  “Duna.”

  “Jak.”

  Duna walked in as if she lived there. She put the bag she was carrying on the table.

  “What are you doing here?” Jak asked.

  “What do you think? Someone had to be here for your mother. Took your time coming, didn’t you?” she said with a disapproving click of her tongue. She assembled the ingredients for a meal.

  “I came as soon as I got word,” Jak filled the pitcher at the water pump.

  “She hasn’t been well for some time, as you know.”

  “I did.”

  Duna’s pinched expression added nothing to her overall appearance. She’d pulled back her hair into a severe ponytail low on her neck. Her thin cheeks and hollowed eyes made her look as if her own life had been hard and long, much longer than the twenty-four years she’d lived.

  He remembered how happy they’d been as children. Things should have ended there, but Jak’s lack of a father and Duna’s longing for a mother drew them together. He had thought himself in love with her, but now, as he watched her moving around the kitchen, he couldn’t remember why. They’d both changed so much over the last few years. They no longer resembled the boy and girl who’d carved their names into the tree between their ranches. Jak had so much he wanted to say to her, but there was only one thing that mattered.

  “Our marriage is over,” Jak said.

  “Yes, of course.” She pulled out the jeweled bracelet he’d given her and placed it in his hand.

  Ebere looked from one to the other with wide eyes at their civil exchange.

  “I wish you happy and safe,” she said.

  “And you.” Jak slipped the bracelet into his pocket. He waited for her to go back to the stew she was preparing before he continued. “I can’t thank you enough for being here for my mother. If you should ever need anything, I’ll be there to help. No matter what.”

  “Thank you, Jak.”

  16

  KYUK CONTINUED TO PROCLAIM his innocence through an entire night of interrogation. The weary council met the following morning to discuss what they should do next.

  “He refused to give us anything.” Gungbe began and held up a hand when Rasha tried to speak. “Before you ask, we implemented a variety of… forceful techniques. We did not go easy on him.”

  “We found him with the birdman. It’s the best way to get them information without the signal being traced or their movements tracked. This is how he’s getting it to them.”

  “We�
�ve got guards watching the skies for any more visitors from the north,” Keabasi said.

  “Let me question the prisoner.” Rasha banged a fist on the table.

  “Not one of your best ideas,” Xeku said. “Be patient, Your Highness. It’s going to take some creative thinking to get the information.”

  “I can make him talk,” Rasha said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Keabasi said. “Let us deal with this, Your Highness, while you work with the fighters. They weren’t supportive of your original plan, less so now that the spy has gotten a message out.”

  Rasha groaned as she remembered the heated discussion among the captains and leaders. They had to work together, or they’d fail.

  “I’ll see to them right away. If there’s nothing else?” She glanced around the table at each councilperson and wondered what they might be hiding. If they had one traitor, then there could be others. Maybe she was just being paranoid. She missed having Jak there to offer an opinion. She shook off her confused feelings.

  Prince Bashir might be of some help. The palace had been his playground as a child. Who better to help them navigate its secrets? He’d also grown up with most of the present council, Kyuk excluded. She made a mental note to arrange a meeting with Bashir at his earliest convenience. The council wouldn’t like it, but at the moment she didn’t care.

  * * *

  Rasha made her way to the field. The sky wasn’t holding back; fat flakes of snow were falling and sticking to the ground. Rasha reached the captains and listened as they argued about how best to avoid implementing her plans.

  “May I speak?” she said. The idea of listening to them bickering with one another again annoyed her. “My overall plan is sound. We need to figure out a new way to implement it. If you continue to refuse to listen to me you’ll be sending your fighters out there to die. I’ve seen enough to recognize our traditional ways aren’t effective against them.” How many had she helped bury? She’d stopped counting when she’d reached three digits, and that was ages ago.

 

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