by Glenda Larke
“Friends, I think we must be going,” Elmar said. “This lad has had far too much to drink, methinks. He’ll be imagining he knows the Cloudmaster next.”
Elmar hauled him off the bench and pulled him towards the door, saying, “You really ought to learn to keep your mouth shut, you sand-brain.” He suddenly did not sound at all drunk as they stepped out into the night air.
“But people talk such a load of pedeshit. Shouldn’t I tell them they’re wrong?”
“And end up getting yourself scragged and dumped in the garbage? You have to learn to be more clever, m’lad! This is the thirty-fourth we’re on. Come on, let’s go back to the barracks.”
“Why are we doing this, Elmar? Listening to all these low-lifes every night…”
“You’re getting a bit big for your sandals, aren’t you? Didn’t you tell me you’re a Scarcleft lowleveller and your pa was a shoveller in the smelters?”
“Yes. Nothing wrong with that, and I’m not ashamed of it. But I’ve learned to think better since then, about the world. And about people. And thinking about stuff is better than throwing mud at folk ’cause someone says you ought.”
“Pity someone didn’t knock some sense into your skull along the way,” Elmar said cheerfully.
“Terelle’s in trouble, isn’t she?”
“Possibly. No, probably. Lord Gold has his claws out. He wants a cloudmaster under his thumb; instead he has one who doesn’t even go to temple if he can help it. He can’t be too critical of Lord Jasper, so he looks for someone to blame. What we don’t know is how dangerous he is.”
“What if he had Taquar’s enforcers to call upon?”
Elmar snorted. “And where would he get them from?”
“I saw two of them back in there. Fellow with half a nose, together with a mate. What in all spitless hells would they be doing in Breccia? I’d have thought Lord Iani would have slaughtered the whole bunch. Or at least imprisoned them.”
Elmar stopped and turned to look at him. “Someone else told me the other day that he thought he’d seen a man who’d been an enforcer. He wasn’t certain, so I didn’t take much notice. Pedeshit. We could do without scum like them in the city at a time like this.”
“Yes. Did this other fellow mention a man with half a nose?”
“No.”
“Maybe there’s more than these two, then?”
“I’ll see what I can find out. I wouldn’t have thought Lord Gold would stoop that low, though.”
“Who else?”
“Maybe no one. Maybe they just escaped.” He started up the street again. “Come on, now. I want to get a good night’s shut-eye. Tomorrow, we’re having a chat to the Cloudmaster.” As he marched on up Main Way to the next level, his gait was as steady as a sober waterpriest on a Sun Day.
They reached the fourteenth before comprehension dawned on Dibble. “Oh! I get it now. You mean we’ve been doing all this to collect information for Lord Jasper? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That’s right, my boy, all those morning headaches were in the interest of Scarpen security. You can blame Lord Jasper, not me, all right?”
Dibble briefly closed his eyes. Sometimes he was so weeping sand-witted.
Terelle sat at the end of the shaded curved front row of the balcony overlooking the Sun Temple courtyard. If she looked to her left, she knew she’d see Jasper sitting next to Laisa in the middle of the row, but she carefully avoided doing so. After the news Elmar and Dibble had brought, Jasper didn’t deem it wise for them to demonstrate their friendship too publicly, especially while they were meant to be demonstrating their piety. Well, pretended piety. Jasper didn’t believe in the one true faith, and never had; she at least had once been sincere. It had been a long time since she’d sacrificed water to the Sunlord, though, and she was none too sure what she believed any more.
Below, in the full sun, stood some of the pious citizens of Breccia, those who could not afford to pay for seats. Even as she watched, priests passed water jars around and the congregation poured water into them from their drink skins.
The wealthier patrons and the higher members of the priesthood sat where she did, on the shaded balcony, and were expected to give tokens, not water. The priests said it was for the poor, but she was no longer naïve enough to be sure that was the case. She squirmed uncomfortably in spite of the padded chair and the woven palm shading. Ceremonies were always held at midday, to give appropriate honour to the Sunlord, but it wasn’t the heat that made her uneasy; she just felt out of place among priests and reeves and overmen and the wealthier uplevellers.
A little later she discovered the worst disadvantage of being in the front row of the balcony: once Lord Gold mounted halfway up the tower to the open stage from where he gave the Sun Day sermon, he was precisely level with them. If she looked straight ahead, she was the target of his disapproving stare. She dropped her gaze and resolutely stared at her knees as he began to speak.
The first part of the sermon was dull, full of homilies about the worth of sacrifice and the essence of charity. Her mind began to wander, returning to some of the things Elmar and Dibble had said to her and Jasper. “Stinking rumours being spread about like manure in a bab nursery,” was the way Elmar had described it. What he’d said next was more disturbing. “Basalt is dangerous because he has the backing of the whole Scarpen priesthood. He had to get new priests to replace the ones who died here in Breccia. Trouble is, he’s handpicked his own mates: narrow-minded bigots, every last spitless one of them. And these are the men people listen to nowadays. Worse, they are the only rainlords we have here in Breccia, besides Lord Laisa and her daughter. Instead of leaders like Lord Merqual Feldspar and Lord Kaneth and the old Lord Gold, we have this lot. Water-wasters, every bleeding one of them! And they’re not just dealing with religious matters. Because there aren’t enough reeves and ordinary rainlords, they are also taking the water of the dead and giving rulings on all matters concerning water, from bath houses to buying extra water allowances.”
Terelle had added the obvious. “People don’t know you, Jasper. They don’t know what you do. They only see the waterpriest rainlords.” And so Jasper had decided to make more public appearances, including Sun Day religious services.
About halfway through the service, she knew it had been a mistake.
After a lengthy discourse about the ethical obligation to set a good example, followed by a long digression on the slipping moral standards of Breccian society during which he recounted a list of particularly nasty crimes committed in the past ten days, Basalt launched into his attack.
“Our leaders have to set an example for all. Only then will the Sunlord truly smile on us! Only if our rulers spend time in public prayer setting an example others can follow will we have a city of wealth and prosperity.”
He was staring straight at Jasper while he said this, so there could be no mistaking his target.
“We should of course be generous with our understanding. Not everyone has the advantage of a truly moral upbringing by Sunlord-fearing families. But we who have possess a moral duty to teach those less fortunate. We have a moral duty to point out to the transgressors their transgressions. We have a duty to identify those among us who would lead us astray.”
With those words he shifted his gaze to her, the movement of his head so abrupt and the gesture of his hand so precise it was clear he was identifying the source of his ire. Heads craned to look. People twisted in their seats. Those below tilted their heads to seek out his target. Appalled, Terelle reddened and ducked her head.
“We have among us those who would corrupt our leaders with their foreign godless heresies!” He dropped his voice to a softer tone, “Brethren, I would beseech you, seek out the sedition and cease its influence. Be watchful—”
There was a murmur in the crowd, a fluttering rustle of movement.
“—of all outlanders preaching religious sedition—”
She looked up to see that Jasper had stood.
; “—whether it be behind closed doors or not—”
With a glare at Basalt, he strode towards her, forcing everyone else in the front row to hastily pull their feet out of his way. He gestured for her to precede him and she didn’t argue.
“—and be ready to tear the heart of blasphemy out of our city—”
She stood and dashed for the stairs, Jasper following close behind.
“—no matter how high they stand—”
Dibble, who had been lounging there with three of his fellow guards, sprang to attention before falling in, two behind and two in front. As they left the temple, Jasper’s face was darker than one of his own rainclouds.
Behind them, Basalt’s voice still sounded. She caught the words, “Alabaster heresy… Ash Gridelin… vile lies from a godless, bloodless people… punishment…”
It was only when they reached the peace of the Cloudmaster’s sitting room that either of them spoke. Jasper closed the door and took her in his arms. A scurry of half-grown cats came to greet them, but she barely noticed. In horror, she realised she didn’t feel safe, even there. He cannot protect me. The thought, thorn-sharp, scored her peace of mind.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper said.
“What will you do?”
“I’m not sure. But I want that man out of Breccia.”
“The city has always been the seat of the Sunpriest,” she pointed out.
“Time that changed.”
She took a deep breath and gave voice to what she knew needed to be said. “We’ve completed enough paintings. And I always had to be in Khromatis where Russet painted me within a year. This time we’ve had together in Breccia, it’s been precious, but we both knew it’d have to end. I’m ready to go.” She had accumulated everything she needed, from clothes to paint-powders. She had even been revising all that Russet had taught her of the Khromatian language.
She half-expected Jasper to say no, he couldn’t part with her yet, but he was silent, thinking. When he broke the silence, it was to say, “I made up my mind some time ago to send someone to assassinate Russet.”
“What?”
“I didn’t do it in the end. But he did tell you that if he died, the magic in his painting would die too. So I thought you wouldn’t feel compelled to leave if…” He shrugged in an embarrassed fashion.
“Well, yes, he did say that. But he might’ve lied.”
“There was no reason to. In fact, it encouraged you to kill him.”
“He knew I wouldn’t,” Terelle said. “Don’t do it, Shale.”
“I wouldn’t do it without telling you, but Terelle—I’d murder him, if you agreed. Myself, personally, if that’s what it took.”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “We don’t do that sort of thing. It makes us as bad as he is. Anyway, I’ve another reason to go. To bring back Khromatian stormlords, if I can.”
“Yes. But I want you to know you have a choice.”
“Committing murder is not a choice.”
“No. But being forced to leave because of his magic is no choice at all.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He sighed heavily. “I suppose you’re right. And the sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back.” He turned from her and struck his palm against the wall of the room in a sudden expression of rage. “Now I have another man I’d happily slaughter. How dare he stand there, with his sanctimonious ranting—”
“What about these enforcers that Dibble mentioned? Do you think I—I’m in danger here? Do you think Basalt would actually send someone to harm me?”
“Well, seeing as you hardly leave the hall, no, not really. And we don’t know that those men Dibble saw had anything at all to do with the Sunpriest. Or anyone else here, for that matter. But I don’t like the thought of them turning up in the city nonetheless. My men are out looking for them. I’ve already sent a note to Iani to ask if he knows anything. I thought the enforcers were all arrested when Taquar was defeated.”
“They were bullies. Ruffians with bad reputations.”
“I know. But quite apart from them, I don’t want you to be subjected to this kind of vile innuendo. We’ll let the whole thing die down, as it will. When they see that you aren’t here, they can’t blame you for whatever goes wrong.” Exasperated, he added, “It’s all so stupid.”
“Part of the problem is you’re trying to be cloudmaster and highlord, and it’s just too much.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? But there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s not a single rainlord suitable for the post of highlord who wants to come here. And I can hardly blame them. We are short of labour, physicians, food, pedes, reeves, rainlords, guards—you name it, we don’t have enough. What rainlord with half a brain wants to take on all that? Oh, there are some, I suppose, but they are hardly suitable.” He made a sound halfway between laugh and snort. “Laisa, for example.”
“Laisa wants to be highlord? After she betrayed you to Taquar? I trust you aren’t thinking of allowing that!”
“Hardly. I couldn’t trust her even as far as I can spit a bab seed. She’s been nagging me about it, though. I’m just grateful Senya hated it here so much that she agitated to go to her Breakaway relatives before we came back. I’m hoping she never comes back. But those two are the least of my worries. Of course I wish I had the time to walk the streets, to talk to people, to let them see me and my concern for them. But I have neither the time nor the strength.”
“And no one knows that you have to do double the normal stormshifting.” Together they had been trying to fill every cistern in the Scarpen and White Quarter to the brim before she left. Once she was gone, Jasper would have to work from the limited number of paintings she could leave behind, using most of them to form clouds for the Red and Gibber Quarters, which didn’t have as much storage. “But what could Lord Gold’s motive be for attacking us like that? He can hardly want to replace you!”
“It’s not me he’s after. It’s you. Ironic, isn’t it? You were the one who always sacrificed to the Sunlord, and prayed at the temple. I was the sceptic who questioned everything.”
“What are you going to do?”
“After today’s little episode, I refuse to play the hypocrite again. It was hard enough before, pretending piety when the Alabasters say they have proof that our Watergiver was no more than an ordinary man who seduced every halfway passable female he could persuade into his bed. Sunlord above—his blood even flows in my veins, it seems!” He gave a lopsided grin. “I’m glad I have an excuse not to step into a temple and pretend to believe he’s our link to the Sunlord.”
“Maybe the Alabasters’ proofs are forgeries.”
“Do you think so?”
“Their beliefs are sincerely held, if that means anything. But then, it was all a long time ago.”
“At least the Alabasters wrote things down at the time. Here, according to what Ryka once told me, most of our people back in Ash Gridelin’s day were illiterate. Society had broken down. They were wanderers—hunters and gatherers and herders following the random rains. It was at least a thousand cycles ago, probably more. Nothing about the Watergiver was written until years after he died, when the tunnels were already built and folk were more settled. Who knows if they remembered correctly when the time came to transcribe oral teachings?”
She slumped down into her chair. One of the cats clambered up to sit on her lap and she petted it absent-mindedly. “I wanted so much to believe it was true, that there was a greater being who cared. That all I had to do was pray and help would come.”
“Just because they were wrong doesn’t mean everyone was. Maybe the Alabasters have it right. To me, it does sound like a much more rational and tolerant faith.”
She brightened a little. “You’re right; it is. But you aren’t going to believe in it, though, are you?”
“I don’t think I am a very believing sort of person. I just wish people could believe what they want and tolerate what other people believe
. Oh, blighted eyes, I’m going to miss you.”
“What if I can’t get back in time? What if you run out of waterpaintings while I’m gone? What if no Watergivers will come back with me?”
“Hush.” He came over to her and pulled her to her feet. The cat clung on till the last minute, then jumped to the floor. He put his fingers flat to her lips. “We’ll have done our best. You won’t be gone forever anyway. And I’m going to send both Dibble and Elmar with you.” He put his arms around her, as if he could keep her safe.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, you can’t! The two people you trust the most? Send a few guards with me as far as Samphire by all means, but not your best men. Feroze said he’d make sure I had Alabasters to take Russet and me the rest of the way.”
“Yes, I know. But he also mentioned that no Alabaster is allowed deep into the heart of Khromatis. You’ll still be on your own there. We know the odds are you’ll arrive safely because Russet’s painting says so. What we don’t know is whether you’ll get back safely. It’s of the utmost importance you do, not just for me, not just for yourself, but for the Quartern. I must know that two people I trust implicitly will be there, looking after your safety. In fact, I’m going to tell them exactly why you’re so important.”
“But what about your safety?”
“Terelle, for all their complaints about me, believe me, no one is going to so much as cut a hair of my head. First, most people are scared silly of rainlords, let alone a stormlord. Second, they all need water and no one is going to hurt the person who keeps them alive. But I tell you what, if it makes you any happier—I’ll keep unused the last of the stormshifting paintings that you complete before you leave. It will be your guarantee that I’ll be here, waiting for you, when you come home.” He smiled at her. “I’ll even promise to look after your cats.”
He reached up and took off the bloodstone pendant he wore around his neck, and hung it around hers. “Wear this, to remember me by. To know that I’m waiting, and that I care. I’m—I’m not much good at saying the right things, so I want you to wear it, and when you touch it, I want you to hear the sweet things that I ought to say, but which get stuck somewhere before I can get them out.”
