At least he knows my color. Most men have no sense of taste.
She stared at the dagger for a long moment, mulling over her feelings. Why was she feeling so mixed about this gesture? What part of her treacherous soul was muddying her emotions? The tent was silent with her thoughts for a long while.
Confidence—that’s what it is.
She couldn’t recall anyone—save for her friends or her mother—placing such trust in her. No one outside her inner circle had ever shown confidence in her abilities, real faith she was worth something beyond a pair of hips. Her father loved her, even respected her to a degree, but he would never trust her to plan a campaign against their enemies. He’d never trust her to meet with foreign dignitaries as anything but a ceremonial ornament, and he’d never trust the weight of her decisions.
Her brother Aidan respected her, but only to a certain end. She and Aidan had spent many long hours together in deep conversation, and she knew he always took her opinion to heart. Even he, however, would probably balk at the thought of her commanding anyone beyond her personal guard.
From my enemy, though, I am granted respect. It chafed Nalia’s pride, but she was satisfied at reading the words. I’ve moved well thus far. The game is in motion just as I’d planned.
“Highness?” Jay knocked on the pole beside the entrance to Nalia’s tent.
“Enter.”
Jay ducked inside the tent, still managing to be gorgeous despite the rough nature of the Mala’kii camp. She gave Nalia a covert smile before straightening and affecting an official tone. Nalia returned the smile for the barest moment.
“The Maihdrim is without, Your Highness,” Jay said. “She awaits—”
“She awaits nothing.” Allisondra stepped into Nalia’s tent as if she owned it—which, in truth, she did. Allisondra had been kind enough to lend the crude circular dwelling, and Nalia would have been a fool to refuse. She would show these savage women that she couldn’t be cowed by their lifestyle. She wasn’t the foolish tart they expected, and Nalia wished to drive that point home.
Jay stiffened as Allisondra stepped inside, giving the woman an icy glance. She controlled herself at Nalia’s dismissive gesture and bowed before leaving the tent. Allisondra watched her go, wearing the insolent, calculating expression she always did. She was wearing riding leathers—tight, formfitting pants—and a vest that left her shoulders bare. On her belt were two curved swords, which looked to be smaller versions of the jurinkai wielded by the Mala’keenan.
A young girl of perhaps sixteen springs accompanied Allisondra. She looked none too happy to be in attendance. The girl was homely, and the scowl she wore on her face didn’t help her looks. She stood a small distance behind Allisondra, looking around the tent with suspicion.
“Maihdrim.” Nalia stood and offered Allisondra a smile. “Can I offer you some water?”
Allisondra returned the smile. “Yes. I have been walking the camp for most of the morning. On such a day, it works up a great thirst.”
Nalia moved to a low table at the edge of her tent. She poured three mugs of water from a wooden censer and brought the cups to the central table herself. Nalia settled onto one of the cushions around the table, while Allisondra and the young girl sat across from her. They raised a silent cup to one another before drinking, and a few moments passed before Allisondra spoke.
“This is Jeshanda,” she said. “She is malahim, daughter to one in my own herd. She will stay by your side during the Lundai and will help you to understand what is happening. Jeshanda—give her the stone.”
Jeshanda nodded, the scowl still painted on her face, and fished into the space between her breasts. She pulled out what looked to be a piece of tribal jewelry. It was a choker woven of fibrous plant material with a black, rounded stone tied in place at the front. Leather thongs were braided onto either end, which Nalia guessed were used to tie the necklace in place.
Jeshanda shook out another choker like the first and offered Nalia one of the pair. Nalia took it, raising an eyebrow. She gave Allisondra a questioning look.
“The stone will help you understand the words being spoken at the Lundai,” Allisondra said. “You shall wear your stone, Jeshanda shall wear hers. While you are close together, you will understand what she understands.”
Nalia grimaced. “Magic?”
Allisondra answered her scowl with a toothy grin. “Yes, Cold Woman.”
Nalia kept the revulsion from her face. The thought of letting sorcery touch her skin made her stomach crawl into her chest. She placed the necklace next to the ceremonial dagger and gave Allisondra a nod in thanks.
“When will our meeting take place?” Nalia took a dainty sip of water.
Allisondra turned to Jeshanda and spoke a few words in the Mala’kii language. The scowling young woman nodded, rose, and exited the tent without another word. The Maihdrim watched her go, expression as unreadable as stone, and turned a smile on Nalia.
“You are meant to speak when the sun reaches the top of the sky. You are prepared?”
“Yes.” Nalia took another sip from her cup. “How will the meeting progress? What should I expect?”
“You will be asked to enter the circle, where the other Sadiri will be gathered to hear your words. Their malahim and warriors will be gathered as well, and all will be able to hear you speak. You will make your argument, the Sadiri will ask questions or challenge your words as they see fit. You must convince a majority of the Sadiri to sign your treaty. I can do nothing but speak in favor of your proposal and add my own vote to the tally.”
Nalia narrowed her eyes at Allisondra. “How will the Sadiri understand me? Does your necklace allow me to speak your language as well as understand it?”
The Maihdrim made a noncommittal gesture. “When you speak, Jeshanda will translate for you. The necklace will provide her with a deeper understanding of your meaning than the translation of words. In this way, there will be little confusion.”
Also, Jeshanda can twist my words how she sees fit. Will the necklace also allow Jeshanda to understand what I say to my Sworn Men, or Lieutenant Hardin? Nalia suspected it would.
“I see.” Nalia kept a bland expression on her face. “And what about Gehenia? Her party rode into camp yesterday evening. Will she be given a place to sit at this Lundai?”
Allisondra scowled. “She will, though I do not like it. I have smiled and shown respect as you advised. Every moment of it made me want to spill her blood.”
“And Gehenia? How has she responded to the respect you offered?”
Allisondra gave her a long look, the anger fading from her expression. “She has been wary, but she has done as you predicted. She came to the Lundai, brought her herd with her. She has offered nothing more than dark looks and silence. Her people keep to their own camp.”
“Will there be trouble if Gehenia attends the Lundai?”
“No.” Allisondra took a long drink of water and sat the mug on the table. “I have invited her. The other Sadiri—the true Sadiri—will not despoil their honor by breaking the peace of the Lundai.”
“Not unless they have reason, correct?” Mala’kii law was simple in nature, which made it difficult to predict the course of events Nalia had set in motion. Everything hinged on the possibility for reprisal against Gehenia.
“Not unless they have reason.” Allisondra nodded. “If Gehenia is the first to break the peace, she will reap what she sows. Do not draw a knife—”
“—if you do not wish for blood,” Nalia said. Allisondra gave her a conspiratorial smile, which Nalia returned with a wink. “My plans are already in motion to deal with Gehenia. Before the Lundai ends, you will have your justification.”
Allisondra narrowed her eyes. “How will you do this? You do not plan to provoke Gehenia personally, I hope. You are clever, Cold Woman, but Gehenia would kill you.”
Nalia gave Allisondra a wintry smile, showing her teeth. “I can assure you, Maihdrim, that it will be nothing so crude. You will know
when the moment comes.”
“How?”
“You will know.” Nalia gave the Maihdrim her best mysterious look. “Everyone will know.”
Allisondra regarded her with a skeptical expression. “Very well, Ice Princess. We shall see the worth of your schemes. You should know that should your deception be revealed, I will deny any part in it. Should the Sadiri turn against you, you will be allowed to leave with your men, but we shall return to being enemies.”
A chill trickled down her back. “Of course.”
Allisondra nodded and stood from the table, offering Nalia a hand. Nalia rose and took the woman’s forearm, giving it a firm shake. The Maihdrim held her gaze for a moment, doubt flashing across her features, but it was there and gone before Nalia could address it. With another short nod, Allisondra turned and left the tent.
Nalia returned to her cushion and sat. She spent a long while staring at the necklace and dagger sitting on the table, thoughts racing in her mind. She tried to imagine different ways her plan could unravel, tried to posit strategies against those possibilities. She glanced through the wall of her tent toward the west, in the direction of the Great North Road.
Jay poked her head into the tent. “The sun is climbing, Highness. Should I have the servants gather water for a bath?”
Nalia sighed and abandoned her worries. “Yes. I can’t let the Mala’kii see me disheveled. I don’t want to look pampered, mind, just…”
“Regal?” Jay smiled. “Formidable? Murderous?”
Nalia returned her smile. “Yes.”
“Very well, Highness.” Jay bowed at the waist. “I will prepare something suitable.”
Nalia had a thought and called out before Jaylenia could leave her tent. “Jay? Send in Lieutenant Hardin, please.”
Jay nodded and ducked through the opening. Nalia stood from the cushion and picked up the Emperor’s ceremonial dagger. It might be good to hold it while speaking to the lieutenant. A physical representation of her authority would add weight to her words. She stiffened her back and turned from the entrance, putting on a grim and pensive air.
Hardin entered moments later, giving her a salute rather than a bow. Nalia allowed only the barest hint of a smile to play across her features, returning the salute with as much formality as Hardin had shown. The lieutenant put his hands behind his back and fixed her with a serious expression.
“How may I be of service, Highness?”
Nalia adopted a thoughtful expression. “What do you think of these Mala’kii, Lieutenant? I want your honest opinion on our hosts.”
Hardin thought for a moment. “I’ve seen no signs of deception, Highness, if that’s what you mean. They’re at least keeping to their word, as far as I can tell. I’m just a soldier, Highness. I don’t know everything you do.”
“You’re not just a soldier, Lieutenant, you’re an officer. I would value your opinion on the Mala’kii themselves. If you were a gambling man, what do you think will be the outcome of today’s peace talks?”
Hardin took a few moments to answer, his face flicking through a series of thoughtful expressions.
“I don’t trust them, Your Highness.” Hardin looked her in the eyes. “They do not understand the greater values of society, of law and order. They take slaves, they mutilate defenseless civilians. I cannot speak to the value of their promises, Highness, but I can speak to their level of savagery. If it were me, I’d have trouble trusting someone who would cut my eyes out as quick as shake my hand. Whatever happens today, I think we should be careful.”
That was just the response for which Nalia had hoped. Hardin, like most Imperial soldiers, had a low opinion of the Mala’kii. Nalia had taken note of the things he had said about them so far, just as she noted things about everyone, and had suspected it would be an easy way to apply pressure to him.
People always see what they expect to see—another oft-spoken maxim from Nalia’s mother. Understand a person’s expectations, and you can make them believe anything.
Nalia took a deep, serious breath. “As much as it pains me to say so, Lieutenant, I must agree.”
Hardin looked surprised, but Nalia continued before he could respond.
“The Maihdrim has told to me there are factions within the Mala’kii who do not wish this peace to move forward. She does not rule with absolute power, so these factions may prove dangerous to our cause. She just came to inform me that there had been grumbling amongst some of the warriors. She assured me no one will break the peace, but I confess my reluctance to place much value on her promises.”
Hardin nodded, a grim expression on his face. “The Red Swords will be ready for anything, Highness. With your own Sworn Men, we are a formidable force. You have my word that, should blood be spilled, we will get you to safety.”
Nalia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She liked Hardin, and even found his promises endearing, but she was Thardish. She was made of sterner stuff than some Galanian milkmaid.
“I have every confidence in you, Lieutenant, and even further confidence in my Sworn Men. It’s not my safety that concerns me.”
“As you say, Highness.”
“What does concern me is treachery.” Nalia raised her chin. “I need you to leave a small detachment of Red Swords out of the guard detail today.”
“But, Highness, if they mean to take you—”
“Lieutenant,” she said, putting a slight emphasis on the word, “we are outnumbered on this field. If the Mala’kii mean to take me, ten more men will make little difference. They will be more valuable elsewhere.”
Lieutenant Hardin looked like he was chewing on sour fruit, but he nodded and went silent.
“I want four men on the camp’s entrance,” Nalia said. “More if you need reinforcements to equal the number of Malakii guards.”
“You suspect there will be trouble at the gate?”
“I want to ensure that, should anything be happening outside the camp, our men have their eyes on it. I don’t want to be forced to rely on what the Maihdrim is telling me. I need reliable reports from reliable men.”
Hardin nodded.
“Furthermore, I want scouts in the field. Give them our fastest horses and instruct them to keep an eye out for danger. The day will be full of tension, and I know nothing of the factions in play. The closer we get to the meeting, Lieutenant, the more uneasy I become. I’m relying on you and your men today.”
Hardin’s back straightened and he snapped a smart salute. “Your trust is not misplaced, Highness. The Red Swords are the finest the Empire has to offer, and I will be by your side every moment.”
Nalia returned Hardin’s salute and moved forward to place a hand on his shoulder.
“Captain Yurian speaks highly of you, and if he trusts you, Lieutenant, then so do I. Now go and see to your preparations. I will need the detail formed up and ready to move before noon.”
Hardin gave her a deep bow. “Yes, Highness.”
Lieutenant Hardin left as Nalia’s servants appeared carrying a large wooden tub. She stood to the side and allowed them space to work, watching as they poured water from dark clay pitchers. She mulled over her thoughts, running through the arguments she planned to make to the tribal assembly. As the water filled the tub, so did Nalia’s stomach fill with anxiety.
Her eyes went again to the west, in the direction of the road. There had been no word, though it was at least a day overdue. Nalia had hoped the message would reach her in the middle of the night. If she could’ve had her evidence ready, she could have planned the best moment to make her move. But the night had carried on to morning, and there had been no word.
Come on, Yurian. Where are you?
***
D’Jenn tried to pace himself as the air grew thick in his mouth. The day had taken much out of him, and though his legs were nowhere close to flagging, fatigue was creeping into his muscles. His feet were killing him, sending a dull ache all the way to his knees.
His friends ran with him, shooting
fearful glances over their shoulders. The howls of hungry predators chased them into the city, echoing from the multitude of stone surfaces around them. D’Jenn looked back, checking to see how close the horde was to overtaking them, but his eyes showed nothing but bouncing silhouettes in the glowing, dusty haze.
Dormael ran with Bethany in his arms, staring ahead like a man possessed. While running from certain death and holding a magical light ahead of the fleeing party, Dormael had a haunted expression on his face. Whatever the Nar’doroc had shown him, it must have been terrible. Through the years, Dormael and D’Jenn had seen many things that had threatened to turn their stomachs. The severity of Dormael’s reaction made D’Jenn wonder at the horror of the Nar’doroc’s revelation.
Run now, you fool. Worry later.
A disturbance was warbling through the ether. Since Bethany had tried to close the doors, D’Jenn had felt the city’s magic trying to respond. Whether she had activated an ancient spell by accident, or damaged the integrity of the city’s workings, something in the cavern had awakened.
D’Jenn’s Kai sensed a sudden buildup of magical energy. It sang a warning to him just moments before a great crack reverberated through the caverns. The ground shifted under D’Jenn’s feet. He went sprawling to the stone as an ominous rumble echoed through the city, biting his tongue as he went down.
The flash of magical energy abated, but D’Jenn could still hear an angry buzz in his Kai.
The spells are failing. If it gets worse, the city will tear itself apart.
Ignoring the pain in his tongue, D’Jenn pushed himself to his feet. His friends were gathering themselves in a similar fashion, though Shawna had kept her feet. Allen snatched throwing knives from the stone where they had tumbled from his harness and stuffed them back into their sheathes, shooting fearful glances toward the light coming from the city gates.
The City Under the Mountain (The Seven Signs Book 4) Page 34
