Bohn produced an oiled satchel from under his soaked overcoat and handed it to me. Fana and Pemini fetched lanterns. It was another section of Aden’s diary, and we read it straight through.
4th Summer
I went as you suggested, great lady. We found Aderan wide open after its surrender to Heneur. A farmer told me that the garrison of a fort had not been paid, and I hired them away with your silver.
* * *
7th of Summer
We are ready to attack. I worry the soldiers will kill me and take the silver, but I’ve found a place nearby to hide it—found a boy I trust to sneak back and forth with the coins I need day to day.
* * *
9th of Summer
The first prison fell today without a fight—Apped, I think it was called. The prisoners scattered. They would not hear my calls for them to join me.
* * *
15th
The second prison along the river has fallen. I secured the granary first, which has kept the slaves long enough to hear my pleas that they join with me—join in a fight for their salvation. I hinted at a distant home for them, away from the Kaaryon. I don’t think they believed me. A portion of them are the worst of men—men not fit for the reward of a second chance at life. I am worried I will be murdered. My hired soldiers are getting skittish. Can’t count on them much longer.
* * *
17th of Summer
A fight over morning bread got ugly and almost spread toward the granary itself. Several of my mercenaries were killed, and they are unhappy.
* * *
18th of Summer
The boy I trusted to retrieve the last of the silver has not returned. I cannot pay the men. I must flee before they find out.
* * *
19th
Deliverance! The slaves from Apped arrived this morning in droves, eager to join me, all in hopes of a loaf of bread and a safe place to sleep. These are men capable of loyalty—good men and women made churlish by misfortune. The silver is gone, and so the soldiers and the criminals have started walking away.
* * *
20th of Summer
I armed the men as I could and took the rest of the soldiers’ weapons. It took a bit of blood. I regret the necessity.
* * *
30th of Summer
Time to move—something I should have done sooner. I told the men once again that I have a place to take them, if only they would follow me.
* * *
32nd
Slept better than I had all season last night. Got us moving at dawn—grain and all. No one tried to stop us. Who was left to? The Serm have no soldiers left, and each farm we pass has more slaves than owners.
* * *
39th
Captured two prisons today and grain enough to feed us all for years—exhausted.
* * *
43rd Summer
We fought a real battle with the Serm today, though I did not mean for us to. The estate just appeared on the far side of a ridge, and my single voice could not stop the thousands of slaves intent upon revenge. Too many died—bad things happened. I burned what was left and moved on. I must convince them to move with more purpose than anger and hunger. I must try.
* * *
52nd of Summer
No one is leaving. I was surprised this morning to realize it. Men are no longer wandering away from my camp. They come, escaped or runaway—some freemen bound by an act of churlishness, most were born as slaves. They stay. I stood atop the branch of a tree and asked them why. One man threw a rock at me, but it hit a woman instead. To the mob this was funny, and afterward I was allowed to speak my peace. I told them again, with such passion, of a place where they could be free, where they could choose not only how they would die but also how they would live. If only they would stand with me, fight with me to secure a route, I would see them to safety. They chanted my name and carried me from that tree and around the camp. They believe.
* * *
59th
We have covered good ground and are nearly to Heneur. Aderan has no prisons left. It has been wondered if I am leading us to Enhedu. Many think I intend to make the march up Opti Pass. I must keep it a secret for a while longer. Too many come and go from the camp for our route to be known.
* * *
61st
Things have turned ugly. We are not a band of slaves any longer. We are an army and much of it desires blood. I cannot keep my course north. The army of Heneur and Opti Pass is not an obstacle we are capable of—and the restored Vlek would never grant us passage across the plateau. I must choose between turning back into Aderan or crossing into the Kaaryon. I will decide in the morning.
* * *
62nd of Summer
I cannot turn us back. We have taken Aderan’s crops, and there is little left there that can sustain us. I cannot take us north and risk the pass being closed to us. The only way left is through the Kaaryon. I am full of doubt. So are the men. Bluecoats cannot be far away.
* * *
63rd
There are many brave and foolish men in my camp. They think they can beat the bluecoats. They call me captain. We will head east and cross the river above Alsonvale. I cannot sleep.
* * *
65th of Summer
The river crossing was terrible. Many drowned—too many of them women and children—caught in the panic of the cold water. We are across, but damaged. It is clear to all of them now that there is no turning back. We are in the Kaaryon, and we are enemies to our state.
* * *
70th of Summer
The Kaaryon is sleeping. The bluecoats and bailiffs have not appeared. Where are they? Why am I unopposed? Tomorrow, I will turn us northeast beneath the jagged foothills of the Daavum Mountains. I do not know this land so must leave it all to chance. If we can make it north into the foothills of Trace, I hope to buy passage into the Oreol and north from there into Enhedu. There is a rumor of a road.
* * *
72nd of Summer
An army of levies has marched up from the south, from Alsonvale, perhaps. The men want blood. They are feasting now on the stock of a cattle ranch we happened upon. We will attack the levies in the morning.
* * *
73rd of Summer
Victory! And so strange and sudden a feat. The levies have joined us. They were pressed from the fields, men taken from their lives to force us again into slavery. They heard our revelry in the night, and all at once they walked away from their masters and crossed to our camp. The noblemen in charge must have fled, as at the break of day there was no sign of them. I am happy. But I cannot enjoy our victory. A new worry plagues me. I worry this morning about food. Too many have joined us. Every day they arrive from places I cannot guess. We must number 60,000. How many will we be by the time we are across?
* * *
74th of Summer
I told them today that we march to Enhedu. A great cheer shook the earth and I wept. The feeling was the one I’d felt the first day I walked down Enhedu’s green road. It is our home. So many stories of the men who labor for your prince have trickled across those high mountains. So many happy tales. Few can be true, and I had thought that they would give up on Enhedu once they knew the truth. They proved me a dullard. Enhedu will be our home, our salvation.
* * *
83rd Summer
We marched through Irdsay today. Its people had deserted it. The army thought to pillage the small place, but when I told them that they were upon Prince Barok’s lands and that doing so would close Enhedu to them, they obeyed my wishes.
* * *
85th of Summer
I met a colonel of the army of Enhedu today. I will give this record of my travels to him as soon as I compose this last entry. He has read my tale and agreed to allow us to march north. He reads this entry as I write it, so there are no secrets here. I hope that they will trust me and hope I can keep the army together and moving. By the time you receive this, we should have marched throug
h the pass and well north along the road. I can only hope that my tale will convince you that you have put your trust in the right man and will see fit to deliver the aid we need. If I can keep them moving quickly, I can keep them in order. They can taste their freedom now. Please, great lady, prepare the way.
* * *
A slave no more,
Aden
We sat back in our chairs. “Is Aden really bringing us so many?” I asked Gern.
He looked to Colonel Kennculli, who said, “General Mertone made us very good at counting, Madam Yentif. I say this because you must know that this man Aden is lying. There are over 270,000 escaped slaves marching up that road, and they could not be confused for just 60,000. These invaders were trampling their way north through the vineyards of the Cynt when we left.”
“You call them invaders?” I asked.
Gern said, “No offense to their intention or yours, but your man Aden is bringing us an army of rebel slaves that would quadruple the population of Enhedu. They are invaders.”
“Then we stop them somewhere—let them cross into Enhedu piece by piece.”
“Dia, we were expecting small groups that we could secret quietly into the corners of Enhedu. This army—the men in it—are legally owned by others, we risk—”
“The people he brings us are Edonian. You and your man will find a way for them to join us. I will speak to them—get them to pause upon the road if you demand it—but Enhedu will be their home. Fana, is there no legal way for us to free them?”
Her expression was darker than Gern’s. “Barok could just take them—if that is what you are asking. They have trampled property. The owners of those slaves are responsible for the damage. It would be legal for us to seize every man that crosses the border as compensation to those whose lands were harmed.”
“Fana,” I said. “You’re sounding very Yentif.”
“Don’t know about being Yentif, but I do know it’s legal. Flimsy, as Avin would say, but legal enough that a court would have to decide it. The hard part would be to document all of them—discounting the difficulties of stopping them in the first place, of course.”
Bohn said, “The river that runs down from my family’s place might make a good spot. There is a section of the river just up from the coast that lies as flat as an anvil’s head.”
“South of the harbor?” I asked.
“Far south of it, yes, ma’am. We could build a palisade along the river—keep them all south.”
“Can you finish it in time?”
“They will be another six or seven days marching up the coast. We could manage it by then, no problem.”
“Do it,” I said. “I will join you as soon as everything is set here.”
They went, and we got Urnedi organized. The last days of summer vanished as we summoned scribes, bailiffs, and the craftsmen’s consortium. I knocked on doors and twisted arms, but it did not take long. Urnedi was used to events such as this. Fana and Pemini treated it like the end of the earth.
After a late meeting five days later, the three of us found ourselves alone. They looked miserable. “You are both getting too worked up about this,” I said to them.
Fana asked, “Are you sure of this man Aden?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Finding us trouble is becoming a habit of yours.” She was not smiling.
“Would you be content to be nothing more than a vessel in which Vesteal are made?” I asked.
“I would, but that is not what I meant. There are a great many things for you in this world besides constantly jamming yourself into the most daunting tasks you can find. You chose this.”
“Says the youngest and the only female envoy to ever serve a prince of Zoviya. We all chose this.”
“There is a difference between the desire for drama and a call to duty.”
“Kyoden himself gave me this task,” I replied.
“He did not tell you to risk lives sowing rebellion. This horde could be the end of us, and it did not need to come to us this way. You can wipe that easy smile off your face, too. I am immune.”
I nearly slapped her until Pemini folded her large arms across her large chest.
“What would you have me do?” I asked them.
“Be ready for the worst. You’re treating tomorrow as if it were the start of a festival.”
She was not interested in continuing the conversation, and the long night ended there. I went up and sat alone in a bath. It did not help my mood.
I slept poorly.
I woke once, certain of Clea’s crying, but found her asleep and dry. I moved a chair close to her basinet and fell asleep with my hand upon her.
75
Geart Goib
I was restless.
I was up on the forecastle with the rest of the passengers as the rowers pulled us between the towers that guarded the entrance to Bessradi. The river had the same smell of leeches and feet. I’d forgotten what a sewer the river was. The capital vibrated in its effort to finish the workday before the criers atop the rebuilt towers called everyone to prayer. The din washed over us as we passed between the ordered streets of the Merchants’ Quarter and the walled off maze of the Warrens.
It wasn’t the smell or the din that had me on edge. It wasn’t the homecoming, either. It was all the rotting singing. We’d not heard one healing song the entire way along the coast or up the river, and it was clear now why. Bessradi must have every priest left in Zoviya for itself. A hundred of them were at it at any one time—too many to keep track of and nauseating at times from the rippling shifts of the tap, tap, tapping of the nouns. Several of the greencoats took sick, Ryat too, until the criers called the city to a halt and the evening recitation of the creed replaced the songs with the drone of millions.
“Bayen has a firm hold of Bessradi,” Barok remarked.
“The healing song inspires faith,” Avin said. “The church has long relied upon its healers.”
“If Leger was here, he’d want us to go ashore and cut some throats,” Barok said.
“Not a bad idea,” Ryat replied. He was still green. “Anything to shut them up.”
“You couldn’t kill them all, could you?” Barok asked.
“No,” Ryat said. “The Conservancy had thousands working to cull those with talent. We could only keep it in check.”
I shrugged. “It will all come apart when they start learning other verbs.”
Soma stomped her foot and glared death at us. Her second in command came forward. “Gentlemen, you will be quiet or go below. I will not ask you again.”
Barok gave the man a hard look. Obeying Soma’s boatswain seemed a wise decision, though.
It was dark along that stretch of river. Soma had only the dim light of a few streetlamps along the sculpted bank to guide her. We passed the barracks and then the palace. The black of night folded around us as we crept toward the wine merchants’ wharf. Its fat piers sat opposite the Chancellery and the Treasury Keep.
While we rowed in, pennants went up over the Chancellery for the provinces Kuet and Eril, and the tall braziers beneath them were lit. Enhedu’s pennant staff at the far end of the fifteen was the only one left dark. In front of it, though, a second pennant staff had been added as if it were a bully pushing a smaller boy aside. It flew a white pennant with fifteen vertical black bars—Chancellor Parsatayn’s. His pennant also flew above the Treasury Keep. Parsatayn was having a good year. Above them all atop the Chancellery was the tallest staff in Bessradi and the great black pennant flying from it bore Lord Vall’s complicated name.
Soma said to us, “Passengers below.”
Barok looked even more ruffled at this order, but we did need to be out of sight before the wharf master came out to talk to Soma.
We retired to the space set aside for Barok and his officers in the back third of the hold. Barok kicked at his chair and demanded a fresh cup of water. His temper had been getting shorter as we moved farther north. Selt had succeeded in diverting h
im for stretches with all their talk of the Council meeting. He got his water, and then we suffered to hear a fresh recounting of all the many scenarios by which they might be able to bring a single motion forward for a vote.
“You’ve run that horse to death,” I said. “Time for all of us to get some rest, I think.”
The look I got from Barok reminded me of the boy that used to have his slaves beaten for waking him up on time.
“Wait a moment,” I said. “Are you practicing being Yentif?”
He stared death at me, lost his poise, and smiled. Horace and Furstundish the Senior chuckled at him.
“You’ve been at it for days, haven’t you?” I asked, and he nodded—still working to restore his petulant expression. I said to him, “Been too long, perhaps. I only just noticed.”
He did not like hearing it. I did not like seeing him do it, either, but I could not argue. Bessradi eats and enslaves the weak.
I asked, “Do you recall the winter morning when that servant forgot to warm your bathwater before you set foot in the tub?”
Tanayon Born Page 3
