“Our people were brought to this place from far away,” Allisondra said. “We were slaves. Hunted by your ancestors. Our blood is not the same as yours.”
“You think that’s enough to explain it? There’s never been a male sorcerer born to a Mala’kii couple?”
“Never.” Allisondra turned her attention away. “Look here, Ice Princess. The reward for greatness.”
Nalia peered at the woman, noting the stiffness to her posture. She was hiding something, or knew more than she cared to reveal. Allisondra gestured at the circle, where the dance of blades had just concluded.
One of the men, a whipcord specimen with long, black hair, was holding a bloodied arm to the sky in triumph while the onlookers cheered. The wound was a shallow gash across the back of his arm, and he shook it around the circle, sprinkling his blood across the dirt. The loser was breathing hard some distance away, shaking his head in disappointment.
“Kote has won the contest,” Allisondra said. “The gods have recognized his greater skill.”
The loser of the dance walked over and offered his hand, which Kote took with enthusiasm. The two stood for more cheers as the crowd roared with approval. The loser walked from the circle to receive pats on the back from a group of waiting warriors. The onlookers threw flowers into the circle, laurels for Kote’s victory.
Allisondra gestured at the flowers. “Now he will see the reward for his hard work, for his hours of training with spear, bow, and blade. Great men go on to father great legacies, Nalia Arynthaal. It is this way even in your world.”
Women came to the edge of the circle, holding bundles in their arms. Nalia at first thought them babes at the breast, but she soon spotted the glint of gold in the firelight. One woman had a load of silver eating utensils and a bag of coin. Another proffered an armload of fine fabric and a fistful of sparkling jewelry. Others appeared, shouting things to the man in the Mala’kii language. He stood, considering each offer, and finally settled on a handsome woman who had carried only words to the ring.
The crowd let out a great cheer as the two of them shook hands and disappeared from the circle. Some of the other women cursed and spat in the dirt, others laughed as they returned to their places. The Mala’kii launched into a song, which, judging from the laughter between the verses, must have been bawdy.
I must make an effort to learn their language.
In a moment of realization, Nalia gave Allisondra an incredulous glance. “Is he being studded out?”
Allisondra laughed through the cup of liquor raised to her lips. “He’s being offered the chance to father a child. Others will make him offers as well. He is not being studded, as you say.”
“She offered him riches for his seed.” Nalia gestured at the circle. “I don’t see much of a difference. It’s the same as when men auction their daughters for greater wealth in my world.”
“Except Kote will keep his money.” Allisondra gave Nalia a piercing look. “Tell me, Ice Princess, will you get the money your husband is meant to pay to your father? Is it not a price for your womanhood?”
“No.” Nalia felt heat rise to her cheeks. “My father will pay a substantial dowry, and in the event something happens with the marriage, the dowry will pay for my trip home.”
Allisondra nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Your ways are a mystery. It was different in Lesmira. The leadership of the city stays out of marriage. There are no laws dictating their custom.”
Nalia sighed. “It is not the same over all of Alderak. In Thardin, we have traditions going back a thousand years. We are a strict society. It is not so in Cambrell, where everyone seeks money and influence. The Moravians have an ancient aristocracy and hold bloodlines to be sacred.”
Allisondra shrugged. “Let each see to their own—a saying amongst my people.”
“What of the wealth Kote leaves behind?” Nalia said. “Who inherits his legacy?”
Allisondra took another drink. “Kote decides. Each person must see to their own destiny, Ice Princess.”
Nalia imagined living in such a world. She pictured herself at an auction block, purchasing a man to father her child. She couldn’t imagine lying with a man and not expecting him to act like a husband.
How strange these people are.
“What if the child born to them is a sorceress? What then?”
“The gift doesn’t manifest until later in life.” Allisondra offered Nalia a sip from her personal liquor flask. “When her power awakens, she is taken by the malahim.”
“Taken?” Nalia took a sip from the liquor, raising her eyebrows at the burn. The taste reminded her of the Summer Firewine she and her brother smuggled through the port back home. Allisondra gave Nalia an appraising nod as the flask was returned.
“They come for her,” Allisondra said. “She leaves her family to join the malahim. She is groomed to lead, taught to use her gift. Each must undertake a sacred path—much as I did, Nalia Arynthaal. What was your path?”
Nalia looked back to the circle of fire. “I was born in the Keep. I was groomed to lead, just as you. I was taught to use my mind as a weapon, to fight wars beyond the battlefield.”
“With deception?” Allisondra took another drink and offered Nalia the flask again.
“With deception.” Nalia took the flask and eyed the savage Maihdrim over the rim as she drank. She saw no reason to lie to Allisondra anymore—the woman seemed to respect bluntness more than eloquence.
“Why is deception so valued by your people?” Allisondra said. “In all my studies of your histories, it is something found again and again.”
Nalia hesitated, unsure how to explain such a thing. “In my world, Maihdrim, there are complicated waters to swim. Noble families, commercial guilds, political enemies—all these have money and power. They have swords to back their interests. In my world there is constant, quiet conflict between these groups. When you have power, Maihdrim, deception is necessary to maintain it.”
“Why not make war on your enemies and display your power for all to see?”
“There are laws in my society,” Nalia said. “It’s rare that one can be so direct.”
Allisondra snorted. “We have few laws in Mala’keen. One of them says do not draw a knife if you do not wish for blood. It does not translate well, but I think you get the point.”
Doesn’t sound like much of a law to me.
“I suppose I can respect that,” Nalia said.
“My world is not as simple as you would imagine.” Allisondra stared at the flames. “There are few laws, but many traditions. For the Mala’kii, there are many loyalties. Father and son, mother and daughter. Herd, land, and people. Since the days of our exile in this place, the one loyalty above all is that of the pact—the haidar.”
“I’ve heard that word before,” Nalia said. “Can you tell me what it means?”
“The haidar is the promise. Every man, woman, and child of the Mala’kii lives with the haidar. It is your duty to the people, until we are taken from this world and returned home. The haidar is everything.”
“I see.” A people such as these Mala’kii were bound to have superstitions going back thousands of years. Nalia didn’t need to know the mythology behind the concept to understand the reverence she heard in the Maihdrim’s voice.
“In Mala’keen, Ice Princess, all must respect their place and do their duty. Every ildin, every Sadiri, every malahim and heeja.”
“Heeja?”
Allisondra smiled. “Slave.”
“Ah.”
“Even I must respect the haidar,” Allisondra said. “I have the most difficult path to walk—this, I think, you understand.”
“That is what it means to lead. The hardest choices are yours to bear.”
“Truth.” Allisondra leaned back and took another drink. “I am the one who must navigate this world for my people. Your words about the Empire were spoken well. I have seen this thing for myself.”
“I suspected you had.” Nalia gave the woman a ge
nuine smile. The alcohol must be getting to her. She usually reserved those for children. “I could see you weren’t a fool.”
Allisondra snorted. “You have eyes in your head, Cold Woman.”
The two of them shared a laugh.
“My people wandered your land for generations before coming to Mala’keen,” Allisondra said. “We have kept this land for ages, watered it with our blood. Our ancestors wander here, our magic lives in the wind. Today I see a road through the hills, an army trampling the ground. The camp stinks—you can smell it for days. What else will scar my land as the years pass?”
“Much more,” Nalia said, “unless something is done.”
Allisondra turned a level gaze on her. “When I pass this land to the next Maihdrim, to the next generation, I cannot give them a half-eaten corpse. If you can help the Mala’kii bring down the beast threatening our lands, I am willing to listen.”
Nalia sat up, trying to banish the warm feeling of the alcohol.
“Not only am I capable of doing it,” Nalia said, “I’m the only one who can, and the only one who will.”
Allisondra eyed her for a long, tense moment. After a few breaths she relaxed and looked back to the circle, where two more warriors were entering the proving ground. She sighed and took another drink from her flask, offering it to Nalia when she was done.
“Do you know what is the worst part of being Maihdrim?”
“What?”
Allisondra gestured at the circle. “None of them are worthy of me, Ice Princess. I have seen many men enter the levinkala, many prove themselves in battle. There are many who have entire herds of women who want them, who bring them to their beds. I want none of them. They do not appeal to me.”
“Why?” Nalia was genuinely curious. “Have any of them ever…tried?”
Allisondra shrugged. “Some have presented themselves. It is a game to them, I think. Who can mount the unmountable? But I am a mystery to them. I am Maihdrim. I have power beyond anything they will ever hold, and that makes it hard to desire them.”
Nalia sat back, feeling a moment of clarity. “I know how you feel.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Nalia took another sip from the flask before passing it back to the Maihdrim. “My mother and father have been pushing suitors upon me for years, now. It’s hard to find a man of sufficient rank to marry a Princess, though, so my options are limited. Not all countries in Alderak are kingdoms, and some of them don’t even have nobility.”
“You’re running with a small herd.” Allisondra laughed when Nalia glanced at her. “You have few choices.”
“Few, indeed.” Nalia sighed. “What’s worse, of those who are suitable, even fewer are the right age. None of them have had enough wits to earn my respect.”
“You believe yourself their superior?”
“The only men who impress me are either related to me, or my enemies.” Nalia grimaced at the circle.
Allisondra gave a short laugh. “Your mind must be sharp as a spear, then. Let us see, Cold Woman. If we are to have an alliance, you and I, then you must demonstrate your power to me.”
“Demonstrate it?”
“Did you think your veledrim words would be enough to win my trust?” Allisondra took another drink before shaking her head. “No. Show me the power of your mind, Ice Princess. Show me that you are an ally worth having.”
“How?”
“As I said before, my world is not as simple as you might think.” Allisondra leaned closer. “The Mala’kii will not sign a treaty with the Empire because I command it. This alliance you desire between you and I must be kept secret. I will call a Lundai. I will speak favor upon this treaty, but you must also convince the Sadiri of the wisdom in signing.”
“Sadiri?”
“Herd-leaders, raised from the ranks of their own malahim,” Allisondra said. “My support will mean much with them, but there will be opposition. I can give you the right to speak.”
“And you wish me to convince these Sadiri to sign with the Empire? That will suffice for a demonstration?”
“For them, perhaps.” Allisondra smiled. “If you wish me to be your secret ally, you must demonstrate your powers of deception. A speech before the Lundai is not good enough for me, Cold Woman. I want to know if the steel in your heart is true, and not more smoke and veledrim lies. There is something you must do for me.”
And here we finally come to it. I’ve won her confidence, if not her full trust.
“What would you wish from me?”
Allisondra gave her another long gaze before speaking, her expression unreadable. “There is a woman, a former ildin who is calling our ways into question. She has been gathering a herd of outcasts for years—former slaves, those who felt displaced by our ways.”
“Why can you not just kill her?” Nalia said. “You’ve better than a thousand warriors in this camp. I suspect there are more in the hills. Why can’t you make war on her?”
Allisondra gave her a pained smile, a look that said she’d had the conversation before.
“This woman—Gehenia—has gained power,” the Maihdrim said. “She questions the rule of the malahim, sows distrust amongst the ildin. She betrays the haidar. Her words have broken the ties of family, of herd, and bloodline. Many of those who ride beneath her banner have blood ties to the other herds. All are reluctant to strike at them. Thus, her power has grown.”
“And if you challenge her in the field, it could mean a bigger war than you want.” Nalia nodded. “Your hands are tied.”
Allisondra grimaced. “Yes.”
Nalia thought for a moment. “Killing her won’t suffice. Her people follow her by choice, abandoning everything. If you martyr her, the problem will get worse. You must discredit her.”
“I have thought the same thing,” Allisondra said. “But Gehenia is clever. She has not been easy to corner.”
“What would give you leave to kill her without recourse? How could you justify her execution?”
“I must show that she has broken her honor, or provoke her to challenge me.”
“What does this Gehenia want?”
“Respect.” Allisondra’s expression was full of disgust. “She wants to demonstrate that her way is better, that Mala’kii can abandon the haidar. She wants to lead.”
Nalia sighed and leaned back on her hands. She had no knowledge of Mala’kii customs, and from what Allisondra said, they had little in the way of laws. Her mother’s voice again spoke in her mind.
Manipulation isn’t complicated, dear one. Everyone under the sun wants something. You only need to figure out what it is, and you’ll have their weakness. Don’t hesitate to use it.
“Sometimes the best way to get close to your enemy is an invitation,” Nalia said. “If this Gehenia wants legitimacy, why not offer it to her?”
Allisondra scowled. “Why would I do such a thing?”
“Because she couldn’t turn it down,” Nalia said. “Consider this—you invite her to this Lundai, give her every respect you accord the other Sadiri. Make sure you do this openly, let people think you wish some form of reconciliation. Gehenia wants this respect more than anything, so she would have to come. Her people, too, would see this as a hand offered in respect. The Maihdrim herself, extending an invitation to such a radical, and affording her the respect of Sadiri. She’ll march here as fast as her horse can trot, and she’ll bring her followers with her, even if she suspects treachery.”
“Interesting.” Allisondra nodded as she considered Nalia’s words. “Continue.”
“From there, it should be a small matter to contrive a confrontation between the two of you,” Nalia said. “Just ensure that, when the blade comes down, you’re seen to be in the right. You want to be the arbiter of justice, not a vengeful rival, when the killing is done.”
Allisondra narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“To keep her people from raising arms against you. Martyrs must have their legacies ripped out, root and stem. If the o
ther herds are allies of Gehenia, they will see a revenge killing as a transgression. Her death could ignite the war you’re trying to avoid.”
Allisondra nodded and returned to watching the dancing figures in the circle. Nalia remained silent, allowing the woman to chew on her thoughts. She spent a few moments watching the spinning blades of the levinkala and losing her worries in the rhythm of the drums.
“I will declare a peace between us until the Lundai is decided,” Allisondra said, breaking Nalia’s reverie. “There will be no raids on your army’s great road, and the ildin will withdraw from following your brother in the hills.”
Nalia felt a momentary chill but hid her reaction behind a smile. “My thanks.”
“In return, I expect you will keep your men from my lands. I will be watching to see if your army masses to despoil Mala’keen. I have ways of knowing things beyond scouts and written messages, Ice Princess.”
Nalia gave her another cold smile. “Of course.”
“It will take a moon, maybe longer, for the Mala’kii to heed the Lundai. In that time, you can be sure no one will break my peace. They would invite their own deaths as a result—do not draw your knife if you do not wish for blood.”
Nalia sat bolt upright, an idea hitting her like a slap to the face.
“Maihdrim—you said Gehenia has many warriors riding under her banner.”
“Yes.” Allisondra eyed her askance.
Nalia gave the savage woman a wicked smile. “Can you get me one of her banners?”
***
Bethany scowled at the mask on the wall, trying to mimic its expression. Was it possible to frown from one side of your mouth while scowling with the other? She gave it a try. Twisting her lips around with as much concentration as she could muster, the closest she managed was a flat, cross-eyed leer.
Shawna was chuckling at her, so she stuck out her tongue in response.
“Do you think this was their god?” Dormael gestured up at the giant carving.
D’Jenn approached the platform at the head of the cavernous room, running his fingers over the table beneath the giant mask. “Maybe. There are more of those slots in this table, more script embedded in the stone.”
The City Under the Mountain (The Seven Signs Book 4) Page 24
