by J. S. Bangs
“I don’t know,” Mandhi whispered back. “But—”
Jasthi stepped through the door of the tent. “You three,” she said in a tone of grim disappointment. She found a lone, threadbare cushion on the far side of the tent and sat upon it, arranging herself in a practiced Moon posture. “I had hoped you wouldn’t come.”
“Why,” Mandhi said. “We are the enemies of the Mouth of the Devourer. What happened here? Why have you arrested us?”
“Nothing has happened here,” Jasthi said. “When I arrived, the men that Sadja-daridarya, whose name we say with fear and trembling, had left in charge of the camp immediately ceded control to me. And you shall not upset it.”
“Why do you think we are going to upset it? I have a small child, back with the rest of my group—”
Jasthi raised a finger. “You are not in the position to ask questions. At least not until you have answered mine. What has happened to the Emperor?”
Mandhi pressed her lips together.
Vapathi answered in a quiet voice of practiced timidity. “Sadja-daridarya is dead.” Mandhi wondered how she knew.
“As we feared,” Jasthi said. She pressed her hands together and closed her eyes in thought.
“He fell in battle against the Mouth of the Devourer,” Aryaji added. “The gathered kings were routed. We fled Jaitha and came here with all haste.”
“So the last defense has failed.” Jasthi’s voice was heavy with despair.
“A few cities remain,” Mandhi said, though her objection sounded feeble even to her. “Virnas and Patakshar.”
Jasthi opened her eyes and looked at Mandhi through narrowed lids. “And why didn’t you flee to Virnas? It would be more defensible than this stretch of muddy beach.”
“We have turned our backs on Virnas,” Mandhi said softly.
“Interesting.” Jasthi examined them more closely. “You said you have a child?”
“Jhumitu. He was with my husband when your soldiers detained us.”
“I have no interest in him. I’m sure you have people who will take care of him. Supposing I let you go, what would you do?”
“We are not sure.” Mandhi paused. “We had considered going to Gumadha.”
“Gumadha is no more,” the woman said with a cheerfulness that belied the bitterness of her words. “We escaped, myself and my two children, and a few dozen others. We came here following the rumor that the Emperor had gone to the Amsadhu.”
Mandhi bit her tongue. One more hope extinguished.
Jasthi sighed heavily. “Tell me at least how the battle of the Amsadhu was lost, and I will tell you about Gumadha.”
The tale was shorter than Jasthi hoped. Mandhi and Aryaji shared everything they knew about the battle of the Amsadhu, up to Sadja’s fall and the flight of the Uluriya. Vapathi remained silent.
The story of Gumadha that Jasthi shared was similar: the Mouth of the Devourer sent a detachment of his traitorous Red Men and Devoured peasants to destroy Gumadha while the main force marched on Jaitha. There was a siege of about a week before the Devoured found a place where they could overrun the walls.
“Yasma-dar was not a man of many virtues,” Jasthi said, “but in the end he was not a coward. He got me and our two children out of the city, with enough soldiers and sailors to guard our escape. He stayed for the final defense of the palace. He is surely dead now.”
“Surely,” Vapathi said darkly.
“And now we are here,” Jasthi said, “and I have taken command of the settlement in the absence of any other leader.”
She seemed almost to have forgotten she was holding them as prisoners, and she had not yet explained why she found it necessary to detain them. Perhaps if Mandhi could exploit her confidence further, they could get out without struggle.
“I see you’ve taken control,” Mandhi said cautiously, “as is right, since you are a queen.”
Jasthi laughed. “The queen of a dried stretch of mud and a rotten beach. I have organized some fishing—”
“Fishing?”
“Surely you’ve noticed the rice is gone. But we aren’t starving. The smaller boats go out every day to catch fish, and my soldiers ensure the catch is divided evenly throughout the village. And the women—who are most of the camp—they go out gathering and salting seaweed. Salt, we have plenty of that. The salt pools at Sadhura are not far from here.”
“You did well keeping the camp from turning to chaos, my queen,” Mandhi said.
“Thank you for your approval,” Jasthi said ironically. Clearly she thought of Mandhi as a simple merchant’s daughter. “But the Devoured will be here shortly. It will all come to naught.”
“We met a band of them a on the road,” Aryaji said. “They almost captured Vapathi here. Your hunters drove them away.”
“They tried to capture you?” Jasthi looked at Vapathi with intense curiosity. She crossed the tent and took Vapathi’s chin in her hand, tilting the woman’s face up to look into her eyes. “What is your name?”
“Vapathi.”
“And why would they capture you?”
Vapathi’s lips flexed. For a moment she seemed to struggle for words, then she said softly, “They said the Empress was coming.”
“Oh,” Jasthi said darkly. She dropped Vapathi’s chin and returned to her cushion. “Empress of the Devoured,” she muttered. “Little Basadi.”
Mandhi blinked. “You know the Empress’s name?”
Jasthi laughed. “Of course I know the Empress’s name. Don’t you know who I am?”
“No,” Mandhi said cautiously.
Jasthi’s eyes stirred with an expression that mingled pain and pleasure. “My father was Praudhu-daridarya, briefly Emperor of Amur. Until Sadja-daridarya killed him. Basadi-daridarya is my sister. The Empress of the Devoured.”
All three of them quieted.
“I had no idea,” Mandhi said. She paused, unsure of what she could say.
“You are wondering,” Jasthi said, her voice rich with irony, “whether to console me or to congratulate me. After all, the man who killed my father and brothers is dead. On the other hand, he was our best hope of defeating the Mouth of the Devourer. And the woman who killed him is both my sister and the co-conspirator in the murder of my father.”
“Yes….”
“Well don’t worry, because I don’t know how to feel either.” Jasthi laughed, but her laugh sounded more like desperation than merriment. “Let us first survive, and then I will decide how to deal with the legacy of my little sister.”
Her gaze turned to Vapathi. The slave woman cast her eyes down and folded her hands quietly on her lap.
“Why does Basadi want you?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” the woman said.
“I don’t believe you,” Jasthi said. “I hadn’t intended to capture you, whoever you are, but perhaps it’s good that I did. I could have my men try to squeeze an answer out of you.”
Vapathi flinched.
“But I don’t think it’s come to that yet. All of you will be guarded until I decide what to do with you.”
“And why are we prisoners?” Mandhi broke in.
“Our safety,” Jasthi said coldly.
“Safety how? We are no threat to your camp.”
“And neither is Vapathi,” Aryaji broke in.
Jasthi gave Aryaji a sharp glance. “I’ll be the judge of that. And if you, Mandhi, don’t know why you are a threat, then perhaps you are actually ignorant. Or perhaps you merely play at it. In either case, I’m not offering you any help. If the Devoured are close by, and if they’re looking for this one—” she pointed at Vapathi “—then I’ll send word throughout the camp that we must prepare to sail on short notice. We’ll see how far my queenly authority goes. Many will not be enthused to leave.”
“Their other option is the Mouth of the Devourer,” Aryaji said.
Mandhi scowled at Aryaji. “Don’t give anyone that option. Many accept his curse rather than flee and die.”
&nbs
p; “No one will go to the Mouth of the Devourer,” Jasthi said. “And you two will remain nearby, and everything will remain calm and orderly.” A fierce, pitiless stare formed in her eyes, and she lanced first Mandhi, then Aryaji with it. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Mandhi said softly.
Vapathi remained silent.
“Then get out, and rest well,” Jasthi said.
* * *
Jasthi provided them with a mat of dried palm leaves to sleep on beneath the open sky. The night was warm even with the moaning of the sea breeze, and they were tired. Sleep took them immediately.
Mandhi was awakened by a hand on her mouth. She nearly bit the man’s finger’s off before she recognized Kest’s voice.
“Quiet,” he said. “They’re here.”
She shook her head, and Kest took his hand off of her mouth. “Who?” she whispered. “What’s going on?”
“I have four Kaleksha men and the saghada Sudran. We’re getting you out.”
The sky overhead was black and pocked with stars that glittered through the nodding heads of the palms. In front of her was a short, empty slope down the beach to Jasthi’s tent, bare of men, lit only by the sliver of the waning moon and the dusting of stars. They had fallen asleep with sentries around, but Mandhi saw no sign of them.
Kest was behind her. “Get up,” he whispered.
“What about Aryaji and Vapathi?”
“Wake them. Silently.”
Mandhi crept to Aryaji and shook her shoulder. Her eyes opened and widened at the sight of Kest hulking over her in the starlight, but she made no noise. Vapathi woke just as silently. When all three were ready, they turned to the dark shapes waiting in the shadows beneath the trees at the edge of the beach.
“Mandhi, you’re safe,” a voice said as soon as they reached the safety of the shadows. The saghada Sudran of Davrakhanda.
“Where is Jhumitu?” Mandhi demanded.
“With Hrenge. Don’t worry, we’ll be safe. Tomorrow, with you and Kest, we’ll be ready to rise up.”
“Rise up?”
“Throw down Jasthi-dar. Follow.”
And why were they determined to do that? But there was no time for questions—they were already running off in the dark. For a few minutes she followed as they led her through the prickly underbrush of the forest canopy. Ahead, she saw a gloomy open space where another branch of the dried riverbed opened up, and at its edge some of the white fabric which marked the tents of the Uluriya.
“Wait,” Mandhi said, as they approached the edge of the shadows. “Explain what your plan is.”
Sudran looked at her with a fierce, angry expression. “Jasthi-dar came here and trampled on everything we had done in the camp. She forbade us to make the new-moon sacrifices, claiming we’d be better off using the animals for food. We tried to resist her as best we could, but it was hard with you, Kest, and Nakhur all gone. But now that the patriarch and the Heir are here, as well as the fighting men of the os Dramab, we are ready to revolt.”
“But why do you want to revolt?”
Sudran growled. “Jasthi-dar is not our queen.”
This seemed like a thin reason. Sadja had left the Uluriya and the os Dramab under the command of his man, and Jasthi seemed no worse—
Her thoughts were derailed by the sound of shouting near Jasthi’s tent.
“What did you do with the sentries?” she hissed.
“Go!” Sudran said by way of answer. He bolted across the mud toward the tents of the Uluriya.
Mandhi followed, cursing their damnable stubbornness. Kest ran beside her, and the other os Dramab followed in a swirl of black shapes.
The shouting behind them resolved into cries of “Go! Get them!” Sudran was already running among the tents of the Uluriya, bellowing for the Kaleksha and the Uluriya to awake. Mandhi spied Nakhur emerge from his tent holding a lighted torch, and someone came from another nearby tent holding a fist full of spears. He offered them to the Kaleksha who drew near. They hurried Vapathi and Aryaji past the tents, but Mandhi stayed by Kest’s side.
Behind them, torches and spears were gathering. She heard a woman’s voice echoing in the night air, giving firm, clear commands. There was a large force surging down the paths through the camp toward the place where Mandhi and the Uluriya waited.
Nakhur ran up to her breathless. “Mandhi, come with me.”
“Wait—” Mandhi said.
“Go,” Kest said behind her. “This is no place for you to fight.”
“This is no place to fight at all!” Mandhi shouted.
But the first of the spearmen were upon them. With a bellow Kest charged forward, parrying the other’s spear with his own, and reaching his long, muscular arm to knock aside the charging guard.
But ten more followed. The sound of spears crashing together and a howl of pain.
“Come,” Nakhur said, pulling on Mandhi’s shirt. “Now!”
Mandhi yanked herself free. “No! Stop!” She rushed into the heart of the battle. “Stop!” she shouted.
None of them stopped. The men ran past her. The beach was a muddle of dim shapes, allies and enemies indistinguishable in the darkness. Grunts and bellows of fighting. Lamps kindled among the tents of the Uluriya.
“Stop!” Mandhi shouted again. She threw herself onto her knees. “I give myself up to Jasthi-dar!”
That got someone’s attention. She heard a shout of dismay from the Uluriya, and one of the captains of the queen’s forces began to bellow for a halt.
The queen’s guards withdrew a few paces. The Uluriya gathered behind Mandhi. She knelt alone in the blank space between the fighters.
“What are you doing, Mandhi?” Sudran’s voice shouted out.
“Putting an end to this senseless battle!” Mandhi shouted back. She looked at the captain of the queen’s guard. “Call for your lady.”
The captain barked a command to one of the men, who scurried off into the darkness. Torches moved throughout the camp. The captain pointed a sword at Mandhi. “Take her.”
“No,” Mandhi said, withdrawing a pace toward her people. “I am not here as the queen’s captive. But neither am I here to lead a revolt. We have enemies enough without making enemies of each other.”
“Jasthi-dar is not our queen,” Sudran called out. “We served Sadja-daridarya, and he is gone. Why should we submit to this woman who knows nothing of us, our city, and our people?”
“Because you will not waste your lives trying to resist a queen who has done you no wrong,” Mandhi said. “She comes.”
A pair of men bearing torches pushed their way through the knot of Jasthi’s soldiers, and the queen stepped forward between them. She looked down at Mandhi with an expression of mixed surprise and suspicion.
“I should have kept you under tighter guard,” she said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
“No,” Mandhi said, raising her hand, “because I will not be your captive again.”
“You escaped once to lead a revolt. I should have followed through with my first thought and executed you as soon as you came to camp.”
“I have led no revolt,” Mandhi said. “These fools thought I would join them, but they guessed wrongly.”
“She’ll keep us from going to Kalignas!” one of the Kaleksha men shouted.
“No she won’t,” Mandhi said. She looked at Jasthi and gave a slight smile. “I’ll make obeisance to you, Jasthi-dar. But if it comes time to flee, you won’t prevent us from going our own way, if that is to be our choice.”
Jasthi crossed her arms. “You truly had nothing to do with this revolt?”
“It was planned and executed without me. They wanted me as their figurehead, without any consent of mine.”
“Mandhi,” Sudran pleaded. “The Heir of Manjur and the patriarch of the os Dramab—”
“He’s safe with his grandmother, and the queen has no designs on him. Isn’t that right, Jasthi-dar?”
A pinched smile showed on Jasthi’s face
. “Yes,” she said. “I have no desire to interfere with the workings of your cult and your little tribe of foreigners, Mandhi, but I won’t have anyone disturbing the peace here in this settlement, nor sowing discord while we still fear the Devoured.”
“I’ll bring no discord. And Kest and I will keep these fools from any more folly.”
“Make your obeisance and prove it to me.”
Mandhi bowed her face to the ground. She grabbed the top of Jasthi’s feet and kissed her toes.
She heard a sigh of resignation behind her. She didn’t bother to look back.
“And your husband,” Jasthi said. “The Kaleksha man, wherever he is.”
Kest stepped forward. He threw his spear to the ground and knelt next to Mandhi, bowing down to Jasthi.
“Very well,” Jasthi said. “And the rest of you get clemency. We’ll have no more discord.”
Mandhi lifted her head. “None,” she said. “I promise on behalf of the Uluriya.”
She nudged Kest. “And I promise on behalf of the os Dramab,” he said.
“Good. Now return to your people,” Jasthi said. “In the morning you may join the rest of the women who gather and salt seaweed.”
Mandhi rose and walked back into the knot of Kaleksha and Uluriya fighters. Sudran stared at her with dismay.
“Why did you give us to her?” he hissed, grabbing her arm as she passed by.
“Because we have a real enemy to face,” Mandhi said. “One whom you seem to have forgotten.”
“But she forbade us our sacrifices—”
“And you will go without them,” Mandhi said. “To serve Ulaur we have to live, and fighting against the rest of the survivors is the last thing we need to do. Now go to bed.”
Sudran glowered at her as she passed. The Kaleksha who had gathered to fight gradually dissipated into the night. Nakhur approached her from the edge of little mob.
“Jhumitu and Hrenge are this way,” he said. “Come and get as much rest as you can before morning.”
Daladham
Daladham heard the shouting before he was all the way through the ablution chamber. A man and a woman.
“I will not leave the house of my ancestors!” the woman’s voice cried out, rattling against the stones of the courtyard. She stood behind a rattan chair, leaning on it for support, while shouting with tears streaming down her face. Not Srithi: Veshta’s mother Amashi. Veshta stood on the other side of the chair from her, embarrassment and exasperation showing on his face.
