by Davis Ashura
“He won’t like it,” Mira replied, unsure why she cared for Rector’s concern. “He says the Sentyas in his warehouse have taken note of him.”
“Given he has oversight over their work, why would that be a surprise?” Amma asked. “More likely he’s trying to prey on your sympathies and find a way out of his predicament.”
Mira tried not to wince at Amma’s harsh tone. In times past, when Amma had chosen to rebuke her in public, Jaresh would have offered her support. But that bridge had been burned months ago. It had been a bridge that needed burning, but Mira often wished it could have been otherwise.
“What do you mean the Sentyas have taken note of him?” Durmer asked, apparently disagreeing with Amma’s assessment.
Mira wanted to thank him for his question and intervention, but she kept her face still. She didn’t need another lecture from Amma about how gratitude implying weakness. “They find it unusual for a Kumma to be so concerned about accounting and distribution,” she replied. “They think Rector is being overly inquisitive, and they wonder why.”
“His concerns are noted,” Dar’El said, his voice harsh. “I don’t care what he has to do, but he will learn about those records.”
Mira nodded. “I’ll let him know.”
“Finally, what about the unfortunate Van Jinnu?” Dar’El asked.
Mira looked to Jaresh and Bree, who shrugged their shoulders helplessly. It looked like none of them had learned much about the most recent murder victim.
Luckily, they were saved from their deserved embarrassment when Satha spoke up. “I can help with that one,” she said. “Van Jinnu was a widower and lived in Hold Cavern. He maintained himself on the wealth earned from the two Trials in which he served. Since his wife’s passing almost four years ago now, he spent many of his nights in the Blue Heron, a pub in the Moon Quarter.” She paused and took a drink of water. “All of this is common knowledge, but what isn’t is this: prior to their deaths, Felt Barnel and Drin Port often frequented the same establishment.”
Mira wasn’t the only who sucked in a shocked inhalation.
“Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence. Thrice is a conspiracy,” Durmer said. “Something beyond the love of ale linked those three men.”
“Two of them were murdered, and the third died in what is starting to look like suspicious circumstances,” Amma added.
“We need to take another look at Drin’s personal effects,” Jaresh said.
“And speak to the physician who did his autopsy,” Bree added.
*****
After the meeting’s conclusion, everyone but Satha filed out. She waited for the room to empty, and Dar’El took the moment to stand and stretch. He wasn’t young anymore, and his back had grown stiff.
“Sit down and let me help with you,” Satha suggested
She guided him to a sofa and began rubbing his shoulders, kneading deeply. She worked her way down the center of his spine, reaching his lower back where his muscles had cramped from sitting for so long. The pain and stiffness slowly eased, and Dar’El sighed with contentment.
“I’m still at a loss on how to figure out who in the Society is Sil Lor Kum,” he said.
Satha continued working and didn’t reply at first. “I’ve given it some thought,” she eventually answered. “From now on, whenever you go to a Society meeting, make sure the pockets of your coat contains a small amount of henna powder mixed with iodase. On its own, the powder won’t stain anything, but when combined with iodase and the oils on a person’s skin, it should leave a mark.”
Dar’El quickly grasped the basics of her plan. “So when this MalDin tries to contact me, he’ll put the paper in my pocket, and the henna and iodase will stain his skin.” He grinned. “I’m lucky to have married someone so clever.”
Satha smiled in response. “Yes, you are,” she replied, kissing the top of his head. “Just make sure to meet with every man there and see whose fingers become stained.”
Her final piece of advice went without saying, and Dar’El couldn’t resist teasing her. “Yes, dear,” he replied in his most put upon voice.
“If you’re going to mock me, then maybe you should massage your own back,” Satha suggested tartly, but there was no trace of threat in her voice.
Dar’El chuckled at her mock-irritation and leaned back, enjoying the feel of her hands. He relaxed as she worked out the tension, and their conversation grew silent, broken a moment later when Dar’El spoke up. “I meant what I said earlier. I am lucky to have married you.”
He sensed Satha’s smile. “You’ve grown wise in your older years,” she replied. “But don’t forget, I was the one who chose you, not the other way around.”
“Of course my queen.”
“Is that more mockery?”
“Never.” Dar’El trapped her hands in both of his and kissed her fingertips.
*****
Jaresh waited down the hall from Nanna’s study, wanting to speak to him in private. The Council meeting had just ended, and the others were slowly departing. Bree was the first to leave with Durmer and Garnet on her heels. The two old men whispered to one another, their heads held close, and one of them chuckled briefly before they passed out of view. Next came Sophy Terrell, distracted and frowning as she spoke to Mira, likely scolding her daughter for not being perfect. As a result, Sophy didn’t see Jaresh until she was almost on top of him. She caught herself in time and muttered a few words of apology before marching on. Mira gave him a half-hearted smile of embarrassment before trotting forward to keep pace with her amma.
Mira needed to assert herself. There had been a time when it seemed like she was starting to do just that. She seemed to have forged her own identity, one outside of Sophy’s stern guidance disapproval. But shortly after the ending of her …relationship with Jaresh, the prior dynamic between Mira and her amma had reiterated itself.
Jaresh wished there was something he could do or say to help her, but it wasn’t his place. His wisest course of action was to stay out of it. This was a situation Mira had to resolve on her own. And just as important, Jaresh couldn’t allow himself to fixate on her.
His head drooped as he mentally sighed. Once again, just as he had done for every day of the past four months, he vowed to rid himself of all thoughts about Mira Terrell, to free himself of his longing for her. More and more, there were days when he actually kept his resolution, a prospect that left him simultaneously hopeful and despondent. The hope was obvious, but the sorrow was harder to explain. Once Jaresh’s aching need for Mira was gone, it would mean the death of his love for her as well. As he figured it, love lost should always be a cause for regret.
Steeped in melancholy, Jaresh didn’t notice at first when Amma stepped into the hallway as she exited Nanna’s study.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, peering at his face.
Jaresh affected a happiness he didn’t feel. “No,” he said, hoping Amma wouldn’t see through his dissembling.
She likely did but was kind enough not to press him on the matter. Instead, Amma took one of his hands and squeezed it softly. “Let me know if you wish to talk.”
“Of course,” Jaresh lied. He had no intention of ever telling her how he felt about Mira. He could all-too readily imagine the horror she would feel if she ever learned of his Tainted emotions. They would disgust her. The revulsion in her eyes — it would break him. “I just need to see Nanna,” Jaresh said, changing the subject.
Amma nodded. “He’s inside,” she said, gesturing to the closed door leading to the study. “Don’t keep him waiting.” She left then, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
Jaresh took a steadying breath. He needed what he was about to ask for. But to convince Nanna of the sincerity of his desire, he had to remain calm and reasoned. Otherwise, he would be denied out of hand. Jaresh did his best to master his emotions and took another steadying breath. He knocked on the door and entered the study.
Nanna sat at his desk, reading from a panopl
y of missives and notes.
Jaresh cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about the Trial to Stronghold.”
Nanna looked up from his papers. “What Trial?”
“The one I know you’re going to commission once the Chamber decides in Rukh’s favor.”
“Ah. I see,” Nanna said. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “And after the Chamber rescinds their earlier judgment, why do you assume I will send a Trial to Stronghold?”
“You’ll have to,” Jaresh replied. “Rukh needs to learn that it’s safe for him to come home, and the only force capable of carrying such a message would be a Trial.” He straightened his shoulders. “I want to be part of it.”
“Do you?” Nanna asked. “Is this about proving yourself?”
Jaresh took a moment to organize his thoughts. Nanna was testing him. He wanted to make sure that Jaresh was making a decision based on sound reason rather than a weak-kneed emotion, like trying to impress others. “It has nothing to do with proving myself,” Jaresh replied in what he hoped was a composed tone. “I am who I am. I can’t change it, nor do I need to. I want to go because I am a warrior, and a warrior defends those he loves.”
“Rukh needs no protection,” Nanna countered. “He’s likely safe in Stronghold by now.”
“But he should be safe here. Stronghold is not his home.”
“And you think that as a Virgin you will be able to offer something our other warriors cannot?”
Jaresh shrugged. “Perhaps not with my blade or my Talents, but none of them are family. I am Rukh’s brother, and as his brother, it is my duty to see him home.”
Nanna stared him in the eyes, and Jaresh made sure to meet his gaze. The tableau held for a few moments before Nanna exhaled softly. “You are firm in your intent?” he asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re certain?”
Jaresh nodded. “Absolutely.”
“I always assumed we’d have this conversation,” Nanna said with a sigh as he rubbed his temples. “And in every imagining, I was never able to dissuade you from this path.”
“Then you shouldn’t try,” Jaresh said.
Nanna stared him in the eyes once again. “No. I suppose not. You are my son, and you are a warrior; one who knows his duty.” He looked away. “Why couldn’t you have lost your temper?” he muttered in disappointment.
Jaresh felt a stirring of his spirit, but he needed to hear the words. “Can I go?”
“Though your mother will want me to tell you ‘no’, I cannot deny you.” Nanna sighed once again. “Yes. You can go.” He held up a finger in warning. “But you will absolutely not take any unnecessary chances in the Wildness. Both my sons will be at risk in this Trial, and the thought of losing either of you terrifies me.”
For the first time since he and Mira had agreed to go their separate ways, Jaresh felt like a ray of sunshine had broken through the gloomy cloud bank surrounding his life.
*****
“Do you have plans for the afternoon?” Bree called out to Mira, who was speaking to Sophy in the front foyer of the House Seat.
The other two women shared a look, and Mira looked like she was going to decline Bree’s invitation. Before she could do so, however, Sophy surprised them both. She smiled at Mira. “Go on. Enjoy yourself. Work is important, but friends should take precedence.”
Bree almost stumbled in disbelief. Snow falling in the hothouse of Ashoka’s summer would have been less surprising than Sophy’s words. Before working with her during the past half-year, Bree had only known Mira’s amma as a distant figure of authority. Sophy was the Hound, the legendary House Shektan counselor known for her strong-willed resolve and dogged determination. She was both feared and respected — and in nearly equal measure — known to go to nearly any lengths for the betterment of her House. Bree admired Mira’s amma, but in getting to know her, she had also discovered a brittle quality to her hardness. Sophy was unbending and unyielding, but not always forgiving.
She gave Bree far greater appreciation for her own amma, a woman equally as proud and strong. But somehow, Amma, always included praise, guidance, and, most importantly, compassion with her criticism. It made all the difference. Amma had a warmth and loving presence that Bree never doubted.
Even more surprising, Bree genuinely liked Amma. A year ago, she wouldn’t have felt that way. In fact, she would have found her mother irritating at best, ignorant and dull at worst. What a fool she had been. Sometimes Bree wished she could go back in time and smack her younger self. Amma was far wiser and patient than she deserved.
Bree set aside her thoughts about Amma and turned her attention to Mira, who had smiled briefly in response to her Sophy’s warmth. Otherwise, her aspect remained neutral and her eyes flat. It was an expressionless state Bree had come to see all-too often on her friend’s face. Over the past few months, Mira had become skilled at hiding her emotions. It saddened Bree. Mira had once been so carefree and happy.
“What did you have in mind?” Mira asked after saying her final ‘goodbye’ to her amma.
“Lunch? And I thought we could talk. I hardly get see you anymore.”
“Talk about what?” Mira asked. “And you know how busy we’ve both been lately.”
Bree slid her hand through the crook of Mira’s elbow. “All the more reason for us to have lunch,” she said, guiding her friend toward the sunroom.
*****
Bree’s head shot up, and she almost spilled her bowl of lentils and rice. “Rector said that?” she asked in disbelief. “That if he knew that what he knows now, he wouldn’t have turned Rukh in?”
Mira nodded. “I know. A mule kick would have been less stunning, but it’s what he said,” she replied.
Bree sat back, stunned. Rector’s claim to no longer see the world in such distinct shades of right and wrong was so unlike him. The man had always held such a narrow, merciless view of what constituted proper behavior. If moral judgments were rendered based on Rector’s beliefs, half of Ashoka would probably have been found guilty of some sort of unpardonable sin. What could have changed his mind so drastically? “Is he just trying to get on your good side?” Bree asked.
She reddened with embarrassment when she noticed Mira’s mocking expression.
“Probably not,” Bree muttered, still wondering at Rector’s change of heart.
“Maybe he impaled himself on a Wisdom tree,” Mira suggested.
Bree snorted. “A Wisdom tree?”
Mira grinned. “I just made it up. Sounds good, though, doesn’t it?”
Bree laughed, happy to see her friend smiling — a true smile this time. “I’m glad we had lunch,” she said. “It’s been too long since we’ve been able to laugh.”
“With the murders and everything else going on, there just hasn’t been time,” Mira said.
“It is as those of Kush would say: We live in interesting times,” Bree said. “And to make matters worse, Jaresh plans on going to Stronghold.”
“Why?” Mira asked in surprise.
“To bring Rukh home,” Bree replied. “He believes it’s his duty as Rukh’s brother.”
Mira nodded. “He would have made a fine Kumma,” she said. “It’s odd, but in his own way, he’s almost as traditional in his beliefs as Rector.” She wore a look of bemusement.
Bree shuddered. “No one is as traditional as Rector.”
Mira smiled. “You’d be surprised.”
“Anyway, Amma won’t be happy when she finds out what Jaresh intends.”
“Will Dar’El allow it?”
“Probably.” Bree shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the realization that both of her brothers might soon be in mortal danger in the Wildness. And it might be her fault.
“What is it?" Mira asked.
Bree hesitated. Thus far, only her family knew the truth about Rukh’s night in Dryad Park with Jessira. And although she understood the reasons for why Nanna had asked her to do what she had, and on an inte
llectual level, she even recognized that she had done nothing wrong — her family certainly told her so enough times — there was still a part that wondered whether she bore any blame for her brother’s exile. Maybe it would help to hear the thoughts of a trusted friend.
Mira listened in silence as Bree explained what she had done. When she finished, Mira’s eyes were filled with warm sympathy. “You did the only thing that could have saved your brother,” she said. “You did nothing wrong.”
“So I’ve been told,” Bree replied. “But Rukh’s gone, maybe forever, and sometimes, I feel like it’s my fault.”
“It’s not,” Mira said, her voice was unyielding as ironwood. “It was the fault of Rector Bryce and Hal’El Wrestiva. If you are looking for someone to blame, those two should be at the top of your list.”
“I do blame them, and they are at the top of my list,” Bree said with a scowl. To this day, she still couldn’t believe that she had once been attracted to Rector Bryce. “But I’m not blameless either.”
“You are what you wish to be,” Mira said. “Personally, I think you did nothing wrong, but I can understand how you feel. When it comes to those we love, we always blame ourselves when something goes wrong, even if we did everything right.”
Bree considered Mira’s advice. It was similar to what her family had said. But for some reason, hearing it today, from a trusted friend…it made a difference. Bree felt better about the situation, and she smiled gratefully at Mira. “Do you think Rukh will feel the same way?” she asked.
“If he’s half the man that Jaresh says he is, I’m sure he will,” Mira said with an answering smile.
“I hope so. I pray so.” Bree laughed. Suddenly and unexpectedly, she was delirious with relief.
“You offering a prayer?” Mira said with a chuckle. “Wonders never cease.”
Bree reached across the table and squeezed Mira’s hands. “Thank you,” she said, infusing as much warmth and gratitude as she could into her expression and her words. “You are a wise and true friend. I hope you realize that.”
“I don’t know about that,” Mira said, blushing.
