by JD Byrne
When Antrey was finished, Ushan listened to Goshen’s translation, nodding all the way. “I understand the truth of what you say,” Goshen said for her.
Feeling like she was close to a breakthrough, Antrey pushed on, “Great Mother, what all that means is that how the clans behave towards one another had very little to do with how they behave towards the gods. You do not have to cast aside Var and his protection in order to work in common cause with, for example, the Akan, simply because their protector is Otven. All the Neldathi clans share common ground with one another. The barriers that stand between them are a creation of the Triumvirate. I think that is where Goshen’s beliefs play a role and where they might speak to this situation.” She paused while Goshen translated and then said to him, quietly, “I could be wrong about that.”
“No, child,” he said softly out of the corner of his mouth, “that was very well spoken.”
While Ushan sat and thought about what Antrey had said, Kajtan leaned forward and asked something in quick annoyed tones. “All of this philosophizing, talk of the gods and of deceit, makes me weary. What is it that you think we should do?” Goshen asked on his behalf.
Antrey and Goshen had talked briefly about the result of this audience and concluded that two things had to happen. The first felt tantalizingly within their grasp. Antrey looked at Goshen with a questioning look. He nodded, as if to give her permission to respond. “The Neldathi clans, or at least as many of them as can be convinced, should come together. They should unite with one another. Then, once there is unity among the people, they should strike back against the Triumvirate. There needs to be a second Neldathi Uprising, War Leader.”
Once Goshen had done translating, Kajtan chuckled for a moment and smiled. “You are a bold one, halfbreed,” he said via Goshen. “And who, exactly, is to lead this uprising? Who will be the one to bring the clans together?”
This time, it was Goshen who looked at Antrey for the sign to go forward. She gave it and he said to Kajtan and Ushan words that he and Antrey had carefully chosen. “If I may, War Leader and Great Mother, I think there is only one person who can do that. One person who is uniquely suited to the task, given all that has happened to this point. It must be Antrey,” he said in the local tongue, gesturing towards Antrey as he finished.
Goshen’s answer jolted Ushan from her thoughts. She lit up and spoke in quick, harsh, high tones that conveyed their dismay. “This girl?” Goshen asked for her. “She knows nothing of battle. Of leadership. Of courage. She knows little of our ways.”
“But, Great Mother, that is why she can be such an effective leader of this cause,” Goshen said, first to Antrey and then to Ushan. “No thek could be the one who brings the clans to a single purpose. Others would talk about favoritism or his or her own selfish ambition. Because Antrey is an outsider, part of no clan, she can avoid those problems and bring the people together.”
Surprisingly, the next words came from Kajtan. When he finished, Goshen turned to Antrey and smiled. “The holy man makes a good point, Mother,” he said. Kajtan continued, with Goshen translating, “The other theks will not let one of their own gain a superior position. Someone from the outside, yet who is still passionately devoted to our people, is needed.”
Ushan shrugged. “I concede that you are correct,” Goshen said for her, “but what of the other things I mention? She knows nothing of battle. How can she lead an army? What of courage?”
Antrey did not have good answers to those questions. She had asked them of herself over and over since she made the decision to try and unify the clans. She was relieved when Goshen broke in to answer.
“If I may, Great Mother,” he said, then paused for permission. When it was given, he continued, “While Antrey has never commanded an army, she has a great knowledge of military history that she took from Alban’s library. She knows more about our foe, the Triumvirate, than any Neldathi alive.”
Before either Ushan or Kajtan could take issue with that, Antrey jumped in. “Great Mother, I have no delusions about my skills or my abilities. I would rely very heavily on wise leaders such as yourself, as well as those from other clans, to help guide my actions.”
Goshen nodded and took up the argument. “As to courage, Great Mother, has Antrey not demonstrated that quality already? She struck the first blow of this uprising on our behalf while within the heart of the Triumvirate. She braved the wilderness, the frozen mountains, and the Water Road itself without help from anyone else. That shows the courage within her.”
There was another pause, during which all seemed to be waiting for Ushan to say something. Antrey thought about what Goshen said and hoped it was true. The only part that bothered her was the reference to striking the first blow of the uprising. In her heart, she knew it was a cowardly and spiteful act, not something done out of righteousness. True righteousness requires the correct selection of a target for one’s rage, she thought, at the least.
Finally, Ushan spoke, returning to the calm lilting tones with which she began the conversation. “In spite of your blasphemy, Goshen, there is wisdom in your words,” Goshen said for her. She turned to Antrey. “I am the leader of my people, Antrey, but I do not make momentous decisions about their fate by myself. I will need to consult with the elders of our clan before deciding what to do. I hope you understand.”
“Yes, Great Mother,” Antrey said in the Dost language, bowing slightly.
“Then leave us, child, if you will,” Goshen said for Ushan. “We will meet again at sunset tomorrow in the meeting hall.” She stood, as did Kajtan, Antrey, and Goshen. Hirrek, who had been standing behind Antrey and Goshen, was furious, the rage evident on his face. Antrey smiled at him as they left the tent.
~~~~~
That day and the next passed slowly for Antrey as she wondered what Ushan would do with her radical proposal. Goshen showed a great deal of confidence after the audience, certain that this was only the beginning of a great journey for both of them. He was too confident, in Antrey’s mind. She thought the others in the clan would react to it as Hirrek had, with rage and confusion.
This outsider was asking the smallest of the Neldathi clans to leave the only life it had ever known and be the foundation for this new coalition. If all went according to plan, the Dost would be swallowed up by the others, a footnote in any history written of what might come next. Nevertheless, the territory their circuit covered was the closest to Tolenor and would be valuable in what lay ahead. It would also be an easy place to access for the Triumvirate reprisals that would surely follow.
Antrey and Goshen arrived at the meeting tent just before the sun sunk over the western skyline. When they entered, they were greeted by a crowd full of unfamiliar faces. Goshen took her hand and led Antrey through the throng, individuals moving out of his way like obedient cattle. Ushan sat in her chair, next to Kajtan, with her full complement of advisors arrayed behind her. There was no mat this time, no place for either of them to sit. Antrey and Goshen each bowed before Ushan and stood silent, ready to hear her judgment.
Ushan began to speak, and it was clear to Antrey that she was speaking more to the crowd behind them than to Goshen and herself. Goshen leaned in and whispered a translation in her ear. “Twenty-one circuits have come and gone since I became thek,” Ushan started. “In that time I have tried to do what is right and just for our people. I have tried to do so with the support of all assembled here and those outside, for a leader without the support of her people is, in fact, the leader of nothing.”
Ushan turned and sharpened her gaze on Antrey, but the tone of her voice continued as an oration, not a conversation. “In all of those years, I have never met anyone like you, Antrey, originally of the Kohar,” Goshen whispered in Antrey’s ear. “I have never met a person who came to this clan as an outsider, as one who is not part of us, and yet asked so much of us as a people. If one of the Speakers had told me a tale of such a person, I would not have believed them.”
Her focus shifted back to
the crowd. “But neither have I, in all the years as your thek, met someone who knows what this woman knows. Has seen what this woman has seen. She has learned about the evil that has been done to our people,” Goshen said, until she paused for a moment, “done to all of our people,” he said, somewhat bewildered by the universal tone, then continued. “She feels rage for us, even though she is not one of us. She wishes for justice for us, even thought she is not one of us.”
Ushan shifted in her seat, then stood, and walked to Antrey and stood face to face with her, looking down with her wizened eyes. “For two days I have thought about your request,” Goshen said for her. “I have sought the counsel of my warriors, of my Speakers, even the wisdom of Var himself. There are a great many among us who think you to be nothing more than a troublemaker. They would have me banish you from the clan, along with your blasphemous companion.” At that Goshen swallowed hard.
Antrey stood stock-still, close enough to this powerful woman to feel the exhalation of her breath on her forehead. Her heart raced.
“However, there are others who know the truth of what you have told us,” Goshen continued. “They know what you say about the Triumvirate is correct. And they know what must be done about it. I believe they have the better argument.”
Antrey’s instinct was to relax when she heard those words, but her body would not comply. She stood, rigid and nearly shaking, waiting for Ushan to finish.
Ushan smiled, ever so slightly, at Antrey. “We are with you,” she said through Goshen. “The Dost will be the foundation upon which your just cause may rest. And when the Speakers of Time from all the clans tell the stories of what is to come, let them all know that it was we who first gave shelter to the jeyn. To the leader of the Second Rising.”
Behind Antrey a chorus of shouts and hollers rang out. Antrey had no chance to work out any real meaning, but they sounded more positive than negative. She felt the first slight bit of relief.
Ushan put her hands on Antrey’s shoulders, said something, then returned to her seat.
Goshen looked at Antrey with a dazed but ecstatic look. “She said that my people are at your service, jeyn.”
Chapter 19
By the time they arrived at Innisport, Strefer had just gotten used to her routine on board the Kanawha. After running from Tolenor so quickly, without having much time to think about where she would go or what she would do, the long days on the river provided plenty of time for reflection. She also felt safe and calm after it became clear that the boat was a safe haven where she had nothing to fear. Now, as they walked down the ramp to the bustling docks, she began to feel butterflies spring to life in her stomach once again.
Before they left the boat, Rurek had come into Strefer’s room, locked the door behind him, and given her a stern lecture. “We’re going to have to stay together once we leave here,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Of course,” Strefer said. “You’re my guide, you know. I’ve no clue where Oberton is.”
Rurek shook his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Not right now, anyway. What I mean is that while we’re in the city, I need to be at your side at all times.”
“All times?” she asked, trying to inject some humor.
“You know what I mean,” he said, clearly not impressed. “I’m not going to have you hold my hand, but make sure you don’t lose sight of me in a crowd. And if we do get separated, stay put and let me find you. Got it?”
Strefer nodded.
“Good.” He reached into his tunic and pulled out a small, dull-looking knife. “Take this,” he said, handing it to Strefer.
“Really?” she said, taking it in the palm of her hand. It was barely serviceable as a knife; its days of slicing meat at the table were past. Strands of thread had been wrapped around the handle for better grip.
“I hope you don’t have to use it, but you never know,” Rurek said. “I doubt it would be able to kill anyone, or even wound them very badly. But you can slash at people with it. It’ll hurt, and, more importantly, it will slow them down.”
Strefer said nothing, just slipped the blade down in her pouch next to the red notebook.
“All right,” Rurek said, turning to open the locked door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Strefer got up off the hard little bed where she had slept for so many nights and looked around the room, her protective cocoon, one last time.
Strefer had been through Innisport once before, on her way from Quantstown to Tolenor. It was, as these things go, a large city. Perhaps not quite as big as Tolenor, at least as far as population went. It did have more room to spread out, however. Where it most obviously differed from Tolenor was in its age. Innisport sat on top of the ruins of half a dozen other settlements that came and went at the confluence of the rivers. The city as it existed now was established nearly five hundred years before, in a narrow strip that hugged the River Innis. In those few narrow streets the seeds were planted for the great city that expanded west and north for the next several centuries.
After a few words with Traf, Rurek met her on deck and they began to walk down into the mass of people milling around the docks. Innisport had two sets of docks, one each on the Water Road and the River Innis. It would have been better had the Kanawha docked on the great tributary, further upstream towards their ultimate goal. Instead, it disappeared in a clutch of larger vessels docked on the south side of the city.
“Do we have a plan?” Strefer asked Rurek as they walked along the docks.
“I don’t think we can leave the city yet,” Rurek said, his eyes scanning the crowd and almost avoiding looking at Strefer as he talked. “It’s too late in the day. We don’t want to be around the fringes of the city at night.”
“All right,” Strefer said, doing her best to keep up with Rurek as he carved his way through the crowd. “Then we need a place to stay. I know there are some inns and taverns along the other riverbank.”
Rurek shook his head. “I’d like to stay away from the rivers, at least when we settle in for the night.”
“But before then?” Strefer asked.
“Before then, I need to gather some intelligence,” Rurek said. He looked back at her. “Come on. Let me buy you a drink.”
They walked a couple of blocks in from the southern docks and turned onto a street that ran parallel to the Water Road. Just a few feet away was a tavern. The battered sign overhead, swinging on linked chains in the gentle breeze, announced it as the Three Lights Alehouse. Over the door, three round gas lamps glowed, even though the sun had not yet set.
“This ought to do,” Rurek said, and led Strefer inside.
The tavern was far from full, but there were more than a dozen patrons there, not to mention a bartender and one or two serving girls. Rurek took Strefer by the hand and led her over to a booth in the corner of the room, from which one could see both the front door and the large window that looked out onto the street outside.
“Sit here,” he said, gesturing towards the side of the table that provided the best view. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and turned to walk away.
Strefer grabbed him by the forearm before he walked away. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to leave your side?”
“You’re not,” he said. “I’m the one leaving your side.” He pulled free of her grip and walked away.
Before Strefer could completely panic, he returned with two mugs of ale clenched in one hand, his pikti still in the other. He set the mugs down on the table then sat down across from Strefer.
“Drink that slowly,” he said as she took a long swallow. “We don’t have the money for any more if we want to sleep somewhere with a roof tonight.” After a moment sitting in silence, he stood back up and handed his pikti to Strefer. “Here.”
“What?” Strefer asked. “I don’t know how to use this thing.”
“I don’t want you to use it, just hold it for me. I need to mingle, and I don’t want to be too imposing.”
“Don’t you thin
k the outfit is a bit of a giveaway?” Strefer asked, gesturing towards his rumpled Sentinel’s uniform.
“Probably,” he said. “We’ll deal with that later. For now, just stay here, sip your ale, and watch the room.”
“That’s my specialty,” Strefer said, giving him a tip of her mug. He walked away without another word to her. As tempted as she was to watch Rurek walk behind her, Strefer made herself face forward and scan the room in front of her.
Years of sitting in taverns just like this one looking for potential leads had left her with a quick eye, a good memory for faces, and a finely honed intuition about people. She could look at the table of three middle-aged men sitting at a square table in the middle of the room and tell they were merchants of some sort, probably from somewhere other than Innisport, finishing off the day with a few pints. They were boisterous but harmless. In front of the window was a pair of small tables, each with two chairs. A young couple sat at one, holding hands across the table and giving each other moony looks. At the other table sat a young man who had one of the local newspapers spread out on the table. He was deeply involved with whatever story he was reading. Strefer wondered it was the Innisport Advertiser, the most well-regarded daily in the Guildlands, or one of the semi-regular local tabloids, but concluded it wasn’t important.
She had seen three men sitting at the bar when they walked in. None of them had left, at least so far as Strefer had noticed. That left a few other people scattered around the tavern, all at tables by themselves. One was already drunk, to the point of being unable to keep his head upright. Another appeared to be asleep. The third, sitting at a table near the door, looked to be doing precisely what Strefer was doing. When their eyes met, she gave him a quick tip of her mug.
