Hawkspar
Page 30
“He believes what he tells you,” Hawkspar said, her voice soft and puzzled. “To get to what he believes, he’s been lied to, and he has lied to himself. But so far as it goes, he thinks he’s telling the truth.”
Aaran looked over at her. Her hands were on her lap and her head was bowed. She looked delicate and frail; she’d lost weight while she was healing from her injuries. But she seemed to be suffering some sort of quiet distress, as well. Being in the presence of the Mindan was sitting poorly with her.
Kerwyn said, “Of course I’m telling the truth.” He turned to Aaran. “I don’t think she knows what she’s talking about.”
“She found you and your two fellow traitors,” Aaran said. “Just keep talking. Get to what you actually did.”
The bastard had the balls to glare at him. Aaran didn’t let himself be bothered by it, though. Kerwyn would get the end he’d so justly earned.
“We were in Port Midrid when your ship arrived. There with the Calli-gaffa, a merchanter heading back toward Hyre from a mediocre trade run. We were the Calligaffa’s communicators, and our captain, a Reform Mindan like us, heard that you were looking for sailors. And that you were heading into the Fallen Suns. You sounded like you were on more of a treasure run than a slave-rescue run, but the captain said our allies wanted communicators on that ship. That if you were heading into the Fallen Suns, you were trespassing on Feegash trading territory, and the Feegash didn’t want you or anyone from your ship coming back with stories of the great wealth to be had there. Or anything else, for that matter.”
“So you came aboard with the sole purpose of seeing that no one aboard the Taag survived the trip?”
“That’s right. But we would have saved some of those little girls, I think,” he said.
“No one is going to applaud you for saving little girls just to give them to the Feegash, or sell them on the market. It’s only been fifteen years, you fool. We haven’t forgotten what the Feegash did.”
“They’re slaves,” Kerwyn said. “They’ve never known anything but being slaves.”
“Jostfar recognizes no slavery—in his eyes all souls are born for freedom.”
“In this, Reform Mindans disagree. Not all creatures have the capacity for freedom, and those who do not should be cared for as slaves.”
Aaran bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying what he thought of that; instead he said, “Tell the Eyes of War the rest of your story, that she may judge the truth of it, and keep your heresies to yourself.”
“The three of us waited for our time. We helped with the taking of the cargo and the rescue of the slaves, because we had been instructed to do so. When it became clear that you had all the treasure you would claim, we notified the Feegash of this, and they told us to notify them again when we could mark a point of passage. We did so; it was by our chance or good fortune that you moved into the terrain of the Iage, with whom they have traded and treated for many years.” The bastard kept looking from him to Hawkspar, back and forth. He fidgeted and every time he did, his chains rattled, and his story came to a halt.
“That’s not all.” Aaran ground his teeth. He had not yet hit any of these spineless traitors, but his fists were aching for one good shot at them. At the moment, he was holding out the hope to each of the three that he would be the one to best betray his fellow traitors, and live; that pretense would end soon, though.
Part of Aaran wanted to torture the three men himself for the lives they had cost. Part of him, though, remained aware of Ethebet’s edict, that unless no other alternative would bring the truth, proven enemies should be traded quickly, or killed quickly; they were not toys for a cat’s play.
Kerwyn shivered. “We did as we were told to do. Marked the important men on the ship, so that the Feegash could let the Iage know who to kill first. We told them about the cargo, so the Iage would be sure to get all of it off.”
“And by cargo, you mean …”
“The treasure. The slaves. The stone-eyed freaks. Anything that would bring a profit.”
“And you three? What did you do then?”
“Hid in the deep common cargo hold, as we were instructed to do. We were to be rescued when the Iage had finished with everyone else.”
“They would not have been,” Hawkspar said suddenly. “They would have served as meals for the Iage dogs. The Iage have no use for traitors, not even to cook for their own meals. They fear the cowardice might come through in the eating. They don’t worry so much about their dogs, I understand.” She turned to Aaran. “Has he offered anything else?”
And Aaran said, “This one had a few things about the girls they intended to keep for themselves—but since they wouldn’t have lived once off the ship, that is of no real importance.”
Hawkspar nodded. Her hands unfolded from her lap, her shoulders came back, her head came up, and her voice changed. It grew deeper, and firmer, and louder. “I judge his words true, and his intent behind them the betrayal of every living soul aboard this ship. He had a willing hand in the deaths of those who fought to protect those still living; he knew full well their deaths were planned, and helped to mark them as the first to be sacrificed.”
“He hasn’t given us as much as his friend Hebaas,” Aaran said. “We know what he’s given us is true. But it isn’t all he knows. Or if it is, then he was less important in this than Hebaas.”
“You said I had given you the most,” Kerwyn shrieked.
“This one knows the Feegash who tells him what to do,” Hawkspar said. “Kerwyn has contacted that Feegash more than once from this cell, even as he has been confined in here. He still fights to betray us all, and believes that his Feegash masters will get here in time to save him.”
Aaran turned to stare at her, the full horror of what she’d just said slashing into him like blows from a sword.
He told Kerwyn, “You’d best let me know now who’s coming for you. And what the name of your Feegash friend is. Because I’m guessing all three of you have the same information, but the one who gives it to me first has the best chance of surviving to see tomorrow.”
Kerwyn was sweating in the damp, cold room. His voice shook. He said, “My Feegash … supervisor … his name is Janjigral. He’s an ambassador to Merigona, one of the leading diplomats there.”
“Merigona, which won’t trade with Hyre.”
“That’s the point. That’s why we’re doing this thing. We’re fighting for Hyre’s right to be the same as other countries. They all think the Tonk are madmen,” Kerwyn said. “They think we’re still nothing but nomads chasing herds. I tell you, as long as we permit the damnable nomads to cling to their old religion and their old ways, no country will so much as consider our worth as a trading partner.”
This was all new to Aaran. “So,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “The Feegash are working to … eliminate the nomads?”
Kerwyn nodded. “Filthy animals, the lot of them. Our people have marked as many of the nomads as we can get close to—the Feegash use our markers to send the Sinali slavers in to burn out the camps, kill the adults, and steal the children. They’ll have us rid of them soon enough.”
“Really?” Aaran was ready to kill the man right there, but this—this was the reason all three of them were still alive. So that he and his crew could discover the extent of the betrayal that had been going on around them, unknown, for years. “How long have Reform Mindans been marking nomads for the slavers?”
Kerwyn wasn’t even looking at Aaran. He was looking at Hawkspar. Staring at her, his eyes squinted tight, every bit of his body tense.
“Two years,” he said.
“A lie,” Hawkspar said.
“Lies count against you. You have two now.”
Kerwyn looked back to Aaran, and his terror was clear. His skin had turned pale, his eyes showed white around the edges, and his hands twisted against each other. “I had nothing to do with the marking. I swear it.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“It was the first thing the Feegash had them do, the first Reform Mindans. Perhaps—six or seven months after Talyn destroyed their leader.”
Which meant that when his sister was taken, it was because the clan had been marked. She hadn’t been lost to a random raid, but betrayed by her own people to the plan of enemies who had marked his people for destruction.
Aaran took Hawkspar’s hand and stood. He had no time for more revelations, not with the ship marked and Feegash or their allies on the way to destroy it and everyone on it.
When he walked out of the cell, he told the guard. “All three of them are to be hanged immediately. They’re still in contact with the Feegash and have been planning another ambush against us. No frills, no words. We shall hang them from the higharm, make sure they’re dead, and then toss them overboard as fast as possible. The sharks can feed on them.” He kept a tight hold on Hawkspar’s hand, dragging her forward at a fast pace.
“You don’t want to know what else they know?”
“I do, but I can’t afford to. As long as they’re alive, the Feegash know exactly where we are and what we’re doing.”
“Yes,” she said. “There is that.” And then she turned those odd eyes in his direction and said, “This was more to you than just finding out the depths of their treachery, though. This was … very personal to you. Why?”
“I can’t talk about it,” he told her. “Not now. We have other things to worry us, and I cannot allow myself to … to consider the full meaning of what I’ve just found out.” He’d never considered before that his sister might have ended up as a Feegash concubine, but now he could think of nothing else. Yet he had to. The lives of everyone aboard depended upon what he did next.
The voyage was cursed. The ship—cursed. He should never have accepted a ship that had betrayed its crew to their deaths and buried them all. Never. But he had, and this was the result; disaster upon disaster, death and pending death.
“Go back to your quarters,” he told Hawkspar. “Form everyone who can fight into a perimeter around those who can’t, and keep everyone in quarters. Doors barred, not to be opened except to my voice, or—”
“I can tell friend from foe,” she said. “Through the doors. I’ll need no special password from you.”
“Right. Of course.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know when we’re to be attacked, but all three men knew that the hangings were to be tomorrow at dawn. I would guess our greatest danger will come after dark.”
“Yes,” she said. “If the men are dead, will not the Feegash lose sight of your ship?”
“They might.”
“More than ever, you need as many of my Obsidians on deck as I can put there. And you need to have me with you,” she said. “You need to have my Eyes, Aaran.”
25
Hawkspar
I did not think he would see reason. I was certain he would look at what I was offering him and tell me that he did not need my help. That whatever he had to do, he would do alone, while I protected my people—as if we would have any hope at all if we huddled belowdecks while the ship was overrun.
But he said, “Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right. You should come with me. How’s the pain?”
I felt a silly pleasure that he’d thought to ask. “Not as bad as it’s been. Worse than I’d prefer.”
“Before I can witness the execution, we’re going to my quarters,” he said. “And there I’m going to look through the Hagedwar at this ship and its people, and see if I can find the marks the traitors have left on us for the enemy to follow. If I can erase them, we’ll shift our course, and perhaps if we’re very lucky, evade the enemies coming toward us.”
“I can look a short ways into the future. See what is most likely to happen, try to find good branches that will let us avoid the worst of it.”
We shot up the companionway almost at a run, his hand still clutching mine, me moving faster than I was ready to, but managing to keep my feet nonetheless.
In his quarters, he sat on one side of his wide berth and placed me on the other, with my back to the built-in wardrobe. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he said. “See what you can without causing yourself pain. If you think we should, I can have one of your Moonstones standing by.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told him. “So long as I look but don’t touch, I should have very little pain at all.” It was selfish of me, but I wanted to have him to myself for the few minutes that I dared.
“Good luck to you, then. And wish some luck my way.”
I reached across the bed and squeezed his hand. “You have every good wish I can think of.”
He closed his eyes, and in the midst of all my darkness, I suddenly saw a light—the first light I had seen since the day I got the Eyes. It was not like sunlight. It was a cool, glowing blue that flowed out of his head like a bubble, then expanded until it surrounded him. I ignored the waters of time for a moment; I would slide into them eventually, but this was the magic he’d spoken of, and I could actually see it. It was a beautiful thing. Within the blue sphere, a warm red cube emerged, and expanded until it, too, surrounded him. And then, within the cube, a yellow tetrahedron, and then a golden one, both lying on their sides, intersecting with each other, but fully encompassed by the cube.
When Aaran was done, he sat within the center of the intersected tetrahedrons, and though he was still a man, he was something more. He was spirit, glowing and radiant and beautiful, and if I had not already loved him before, I would have fallen for him then.
I ran my hand over the outer surface of the blue sphere, and felt its power. I shivered at the touch of it, at the purity and the intensity of the energy that filled it. I felt music through the tips of my fingers that sang to me of home and forever, of life and creation and eternity and infinity. I pushed my hands through the sphere at a corner, and brushed the red cube. It was control and focus, the identity of humanity, the weight of birth and death and knowing that the existence of the flesh is finite—it was a filter for the wild, compelling power of the blue. And within the red, yellow, and the dreams of humankind for greater things. To do better, but more than that, to be better. And gold, and in the gold, the mind of the infinite, reaching out to the spirit of mankind.
I wanted to step within this beautiful construct, this magic. I wanted to fall into the blue that was the View and soar forever, and reshape myself within the red, and dream beyond my reach in palest yellow, and touch the soul of Jostfar in gold. I wanted this song to flow in me and through me. I wanted to become a part of this music that I heard for the first time, and that yet was the most familiar song I’d ever heard, that was my breathing in and out, and the weight of sunlight on my skin, and the sound of growing trees, and the power of water.
This place in which he sat was my home, was all of our homes, if only we could reach it.
He said, “You can see me.”
His voice shook me from my reverie, but it did not touch the beauty that vibrated through my reaching hands.
“I see you. And this magic you have made. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.”
“It’s the Hagedwar.” He paused. “You feel it?”
“As if it were the part of my life that has been missing since I was born. The blue calls to me.”
“It does that. In Tonk magic, that’s the View, and if you go in alone, you won’t come back. It’s too compelling, and too beautiful.”
“The red, the yellow, and the gold shield you from the naked power of its song.”
“You can see that?”
I said, “I can see more than I even imagined existed. But …” I pulled my hands back, and the blue called to me not to leave, even as I moved away. “I’m not looking into the future, and you aren’t looking at the ship.”
“No.” I realized that he wasn’t speaking to me with words. His voice spoke only inside my head. “When we a
re past this trouble, if you’d like, I will teach you the Hagedwar. I don’t know what use you would find it or what effect it would have on your visions of time.”
He could give me the wonders I felt? The music of the universe? He could just give it to me? “If we have time, I want you to teach me,” I said. “I’ll do anything to know how to create this magic.”
I forced myself not to touch it again, though it was as hard a thing as I had ever done. The blue whispered its music in my fingertips, and sent it shivering over my skin so that when I listened, I could see the world transformed into shapes of light and sound and taste and smell that ebbed and flowed; I could not understand how sound or taste could be a shape, or a weight or a desire, and yet they were, and they called to me to join them.
And then darkness slid against me, touching me, licking at me. Ossal had found me in this place, and he wanted into me—into my flesh, into my desire, so that he could touch the beauty of Aaran’s magic. He wanted it for himself, as hungrily and as desperately as I wanted it.
I was awake and strong, and I could deal with him. I cast a shield and banished him to darkness.
But the encounter crushed my hopes as quickly as they had been born. I could not have the Hagedwar, for if I had it, then Ossal would have it. And Ossal, who desired most to walk upon the earth in flesh form again, would use it for evil.
I brushed my hands against each other, willing the seductive beauty away from me. Like Aaran, it was not for me, no matter how much I desired it.
I put my mind to my own task, and at last the river of time flowed around me again, and I acknowledged its presence and waded into its cold, harsh depths.
Little joy lies in the flow of time. There is all about us too much pain, too much failure, too much struggle and doubt and tragedy and grief. Light and joy flow through those waters, too, but their pictures are harder to notice in the midst of terrible devastation.