Griffin's Shadow

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Griffin's Shadow Page 32

by Leslie Ann Moore


  So much for flattery , Sonoe thought.

  The servant girl Eikko now passed around the tea. As she handed Sonoe her cup, the mage performed a quick surface scan of the girl’s mind and mentally nodded in satisfaction. She could find no trace of last night’s occurrences in the hikui’s memories.

  “I think Hatora’s had enough,” Jelena announced. She covered herself back up and handed off the infant to Sateyuka, who lifted the child to her shoulder and began patting the tiny back. Jelena unsuccessfully tried to stifle a huge yawn. “I’m still so tired,” she mumbled. “I think I’ll rest my eyes for awhile. Wake me when breakfast comes.” Almost before the last word had passed her lips, she had fallen asleep.

  The weaver rose from her chair to replace the baby in her cradle, then sat back down, ramrod straight, face impassive, all but openly daring Sonoe to try to make her leave Jelena’s side.

  Sonoe sighed. “So, Sateyuka. Do you have a family?” she asked, attempting to make conversation.

  “Yes,” the weaver replied, and snapped her mouth shut as if to prevent the escape of any more words than were strictly necessary. Her eyes refused to move from Jelena’s slumbering form.

  “I’m not your enemy, weaver,” Sonoe said.

  “Perhaps not,” Sateyuka replied. Her expression became thoughtful as she at last turned to look at Sonoe. “But if it weren’t for Jelena, you and I could never sit in the same room together. I stand against all that you believe in.”

  “I believe okui must lead and hikui must follow,” Sonoe replied. “Our blood gives us that right.”

  “And yet, you treat Jelena as okui.”

  “That is different and you know it!”

  “Oh, is it? Explain to me how this is so!” Sateyuka’s eyes flashed in challenge.

  Sonoe shook her head. “This argument is pointless. Perhaps it would be wise for me to withdraw for a while. I’ll be in the sitting room if Jelena needs me.”

  Outside the door, Sonoe came face to face with Amara. “I’ve left the weaver to watch Jelena,” Sonoe said. “She’s fed the baby already and is asleep again.”

  Amara nodded, “Good.”

  Sonoe glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedchamber door, then switched to mindspeech. I’m worried, Amara. Now that Jelena is a mother, I fear her concern for her child will interfere with our plans.

  I, too, have considered this, but once Jelena knows the full truth, once she knows what’s at stake, I’m confident she’ll put aside all personal concerns and submit to her fate.

  I wish I could be as sure as you are. The love she has for her daughter may be too strong. I fear she’ll be unable to willingly leave the baby behind.

  We will assure my daughter-in-law that Hatora will be raised in the protective fold of strong families, both my own and the Onjaras… No. She will go bravely.

  “I think I’ll return to the king’s quarters. Jelena won’t wake for awhile yet,” Sonoe said aloud. “The weaver watches over her like a she-wolf does her cub.” Sonoe’s expression made clear her distain.

  “Something is happening,” Amara said softly. “Last night, I had a very disturbing dream.”

  “Oh?” Sonoe responded carefully.

  “I felt the presence of our enemy, as if he were very near. He is growing stronger each day, Sonoe. We must begin preparations for the Sundering. I had hoped to delay it a while longer, but circumstances are forcing our hand. War with the Soldarans will be upon us soon, and I think we must perform the Working before then.”

  “I agree,” Sonoe answered. “Our entire attentions must remain focused on the defense of Alasiri once the Soldarans attack. But aren’t you forgetting one very important thing?”

  “No, I’m well aware of our lack of a full complement. The only solution I can think of is to recruit practitioners from outside the Society to make up the difference.”

  “Risky, but perhaps necessary,” Sonoe agreed. “I know of several who might serve.”

  “I’ll leave it to you, then,” Amara said. She opened the bedroom door and disappeared inside, closing it softly behind her. Sonoe nodded in satisfaction.

  Yes, leave everything to me, she thought.

  Chapter 32

  A Secret, A Threat, And A Surprise

  Ashinji!

  Jelena?

  Ashinji looked around in confusion. He felt certain he had just heard Jelena call out to him .

  How is that possible?

  “You all right?” Seijon poked him in the ribs with the blunt tip of his practice sword.

  Ashinji shook his head and refocused on the boy. “Yes, I thought…well, never mind. The combination I just taught you, show it to me again.”

  He spent another hour with the boy, putting him through several more drills before he called an end to the session.

  “You’re improving by leaps and bounds, Seijon. I think you’ll be ready to move on to live steel before long.”

  The hikui boy beamed. “I think I’m ready now!” he exclaimed.

  Ashinji shook his head. “Not yet! Don’t be so eager; it’s a big step. Once you start with a real sword, you’re going to get cut. That’s guaranteed. Think you’re ready for real pain?”

  Seijon snorted. “I was knife fighting in the street long before I ended up here. I know what it’s like to get cut.”

  Ashinji regarded the boy thoughtfully, remembering what Gran had told him of the young hikui’s brutal childhood.

  “Go and get cleaned up. It’s almost dinnertime,” he directed. “Give me your sword.” Seijon nodded and handed him the practice blade, then scampered off toward the bath house.

  Ashinji lifted his arm, sniffed, and grimaced. He gathered up the pile of assorted practice weapons and went to stow them away before heading for the bath house.

  The Soldarans did not share the elves’ reverence for cleanliness, but they did wash sometimes, usually after strenuous exercise. The slaves’ bath house, a fairly simple affair, consisted of two water pumps set up on concrete pads at either end of a walled-off area of the yard, just behind the barracks. Stone-lined drains carried waste water away, and a canvas awning provided shade during the summer and protection from rain during the rest of the year.

  Seijon had already stripped and hung his clothes on a peg driven into the wall. Ashinji noted with mild surprise how well-muscled the boy had become over the past few months.

  No wonder his blows are so hard! Perhaps Gran is right, and I won’t need to worry over his safety when the time comes for us to try our escape.

  Ashinji had yet to tell Seijon of his and Gran’s decision to leave. He didn’t want to get the boy’s hopes up in case they couldn’t figure a way out, and the less he knew, the better. It reduced the risk to all of them.

  Ashinji pulled off his tunic, breeches and sandals, and hung them next to Seijon’s. A chilly breeze skirled around the interior of the bath house, lifting the awning and setting it to thrumming against the ropes holding it in place.

  “I think it’s going to start raining again,” Ashinji commented. He glanced upward at the flapping canvas.

  “Yeah,” Seijon responded. Water gurgled and splashed from the wide mouth of the pump.

  Ashinji undid his braid and raked his fingers through his hair several times. It had grown so long, he had taken to looping his queue around his neck when he fought.

  I’ll ask Gran to trim it when I see her this evening.

  Seijon stepped back so Ashinji could douse himself. He leaned forward and let the cold water sluice over his head and shoulders. His mind skipped back, alighting on the memory of the first time he and Jelena had taken a bath together. The smell of her hair, wet and scented with herbs, the feel of her hot skin against his-he ached all over with longing and the grief of loss. The comforts of the bath house at Kerala Castle were a far cry from the cold water of the de Guera yard.

  He stood up, gasping, and pushed his dripping hair away from his face.

  “Hey, look who’s here! It’s the tink and
his little doxie.”

  Seijon reacted as if struck. Trembling, he shrank back and muttered, “Shut up, Leal.”

  “What’s the matter, doxie? Truth hurts? The whole yard knows you let him give it to you in the ass.”

  Leal strutted into the bath house, his tunic streaked with sweat. A fresh welt twisted like a petulant mouth across the top of his shaven head, testament to his last bout in the arena. He snorted and launched a gobbet of spit that just missed Seijon’s face.

  “Leave him alone, Leal,” Ashinji said quietly, and moved to stand between the man and the boy.

  “What are you going to do if I choose not to?”

  The awning flapped and boomed overhead. The first patter of rain sprayed the canvas.

  Leal closed in, stinking of sweat and violence.

  Ashinji stood his ground, unflinching. Even naked, he had no fear of this man, for he knew all his weaknesses. He felt confident he could beat him in hand to hand combat, if it came down to that.

  “I’ve no wish to fight you, Leal. Don’t we fight and risk our lives enough in the arena?” Ashinji kept his eyes locked onto the human’s, which glittered in the half-light like a feral dog’s.

  Leal snarled, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth. “You think you’re better’n us mere humans, don’t cha? Well, I c’n kill you any time I want, tink.”

  Ashinji did a quick surface scan of Leal’s thoughts. The big human’s primitive rage roiled through his mind like molten rock, but a single image leapt out without warning.

  At the same instant, Seijon cried in fear, “Ashi, he’s got a knife!”

  Reflex, honed by years of combat training, saved his life. Ashinji threw himself down and to the left, narrowly avoiding the arc of Leal’s vicious thrust.

  Quick as a cat, Ashinji sprang back, pushing Seijon roughly aside. The boy screamed something, but Ashinji ignored him, all of his attention focused on his opponent.

  Leal rushed forward, bellowing like an enraged bull, knife raised. Ashinji met his charge and grabbed the arm holding the knife. As the human’s momentum carried him past, Ashinji ducked beneath Leal’s shoulder and threw his weight toward the ground.

  Leal went down, an inarticulate cry bubbling from his lips as Ashinji, still holding the other man’s arm, twisted it hard up and back.

  “Drop it!” Ashinji growled, planting his foot on Leal’s neck. When the human did not immediately comply, Ashinji forced his arm upward until the man shrieked in pain and the knife dropped from his twitching fingers.

  “Let me up!” Leal gasped. “You’ll dislocate my shoulder!”

  “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t do precisely that, you pathetic, cowardly ape!” Ashinji’s heart pounded his ribs like a sledgehammer.

  Leal fell silent, lying passively on the muddy concrete.

  “Ashi, if you hurt him, the mistress’ll punish you!” Seijon gasped through chattering teeth.

  “I’m aware of that,” Ashinji shot back. He continued to maintain the pressure on Leal’s arm and shoulder. “When I let you up, you’d better leave, Leal.” The man nodded mutely. Ashinji released the pressure and sprang back, kicking the knife against the wall. Seijon scuttled over and scooped the blade into his hand.

  Slowly, like a bear rousing itself from sleep, Leal climbed to his feet. He turned to face Ashinji and Seijon, who stood back, tensely watching him. For a few moments, time froze as the three of them regarded each other.

  As Leal stared hard at him, Ashinji saw the promise of his death in the other man’s eyes.

  A flash lit the sky and the rumble of thunder broke the spell.

  Without another word, Leal turned and stalked out of the bath house into the rain. Ashinji relaxed and let out his breath in a whoosh. He turned to face Seijon, who stared after Leal with a look so full of hatred, it took Ashinji aback.

  “I wish you could have killed him, Ashi. I’d kill him, if I was strong enough!” The bitterness in the boy’s voice caused suspicion to grow within Ashinji’s mind.

  He has been strangely subdued these last few weeks…not like himself at all.

  “Seijon, has Leal hurt you in the past?” Ashinji kept his voice soft and gentle.

  Seijon reached for his clothes and began to dress. He refused to meet Ashinji’s gaze as he answered, “Yeah, when I first came to the yard.”

  Ashinji donned his own clothing before turning to Seijon once again. “You can tell me about it. It might help. You should know I’m your friend and would never judge you.”

  The boy swallowed hard. His face flushed and his eyes filled with tears.

  “I’ve never told anyone. Not even Gran,” he whispered. Ashinji reached out and slipped his arm around Seijon’s shoulder.

  “No one ever did anything like that to me before, even when I lived on the street. I was lucky, I guess.” The soft patter of spring rain filled the spaces between Seijon’s words. “My first night here, Leal caught me as I walked back to the barracks in the dark. He dragged me behind the weapons shed…and he…he…” The boy hiccupped and his shoulders began to shake.

  “It’s all right, you don’t have to say any more, Seijon. I understand,” Ashinji murmured.

  “No, you don’t!” Seijon cried as he broke away to face Ashinji. “It happened more than once! It’s still happening!”

  “Goddess’ tits,” Ashinji whispered, horrified. It all made sense now.

  Seijon nodded. “Leal makes me…He says if I don’t, he’ll kill you and Gran! I couldn’t let him do that, Ashi!”

  Ashinji took the boy in his arms and cradled him until the torrent of tears had subsided. He then held Seijon out at arm’s length and stared directly into the boy’s golden eyes.

  “Seijon, you must never, ever believe that by your suffering, you are protecting me, or Gran. We can protect ourselves, far better than you know. This outrage stops now!”

  “What are you going to do, Ashi?” Seijon asked, his voice trembling.

  Ashinji considered finding Leal and killing him on the spot, but he rejected that idea.

  No, I’ll do this the right way.

  “The two of us are going to Aruk-cho and you’re going to tell him exactly what you told me. He will deal with Leal, of that you can be sure.”

  Seijon bit his lower lip, looking so child-like, it reminded Ashinji of just how young the boy really was.

  “Come on, then. Let’s go and find Aruk-cho.”

  With his arm still around Seijon’s shoulder, Ashinji guided the boy out into the rain.

  ~~~

  A day after Seijon had related his story of abuse to Aruk-cho, the yardmaster had Leal thrown into the small, windowless cell located beneath the storerooms known as “the hole.” There he stayed for an entire week, fed only on thin gruel and water. When he emerged, sullen and withdrawn, he made a conspicuous effort to avoid all contact with both Seijon and Ashinji. The rumor flying around the yard had him stripped of all his points accumulated so far that year.

  Seijon’s personality changed almost immediately. The cheerful boy Ashinji had met on his first day at the yard had re-emerged. By removing the terrible burden of his abuse, Ashinji had freed his soul.

  Two weeks after the incident in the bath house, Gran came to Ashinji with exciting news.

  “He’s coming back! Tilo’s coming back to the yard, maybe as soon as tomorrow!”

  Ashinji, who had been diligently applying needle and thread to a rip in his tunic, paused to look up at Gran’s flushed face.

  “The Eskleipan brothers just left awhile ago. They said Tilo’s been overseeing their temple clinic. Anyhow, he’s back on rotation for the yards. When he comes, he’ll want to see me. We’ll both meet with him then.”

  “How risky is this going to be, Gran?” Ashinji asked. He held up the shirt to inspect his repair.

  “Everyone in the yard knows Tilo and I are friends. It won’t be risky at all, least not at first. Later on, when we need to discuss an actual plan, well…”

  Ashinji
sighed. “We have no choice, really. Don’t forget the dream I had about my wife and Sonoe.”

  Gran nodded. “Time is wasting,” she said.

  “Not to mention, as soon as the rains let up, the Imperial Army will march north and Alasiri will be under attack,” Ashinji added. He stared out across the yard at several of the female slaves engaged in a group sparring match. The clang of steel ringing against steel floated on the damp air.

  I wonder if Jelena has given birth to our child yet… I might have a son now… or a daughter.

  “What’s your schedule tomorrow?” Gran asked.

  “I’m fighting two points matches during the afternoon session.”

  “Good. Tilo should arrive after midday. When he finishes his rounds, we’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

  “I hope you’re right about this Tilo, Gran.”

  “I know I’m right.”

  ~~~

  Ashinji trudged from the Arena, the cheers of the crowd roaring in his ears. He unbuckled his helmet and pulled it off, teeth gritted in pain. Gingerly, he examined a long cut on his left forearm. It oozed blood, messy but not too deep.

  His injury would make a good excuse to meet with Gran’s human friend Tilo.

  After his return to the yard, he washed the sweat, dirt, and blood from his body and sought out Gran. He found her in the infirmary. She stood next to a cot occupied by a slave who’d taken an injury during practice, talking to a tall, dark-haired human dressed in the brown robe of the Eskleipan Brothers. The man stood with his back to the door, so Ashinji could not see his face as he entered, but something about him seemed familiar.

  Gran spotted him and beckoned with her hand. “Come in, come in. Tilo, here is the young man I want you to meet,” she said in Soldaran.

  So, this is Tilo.

  Ashinji approached, raising his injured arm. “Perhaps you can give me something for my cut,” he said.

  The healer turned, mouth open as if to speak, but instead, he simply stared.

 

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