by J. S. Bangs
“I believe you called me a dumb ewe,” Josi said.
“The sort of thing that older brothers say to their sisters,” Veshta said with a grin. “And Josi took the tea pot and poured half of the scalding tea into my lap. Claimed it was an accident. And my mother believed her!”
“I was always a good girl,” Josi said with a smirk.
Navran smiled. “You should serve tea at the palace when I have guests I don’t like.”
“I might cause a diplomatic incident,” Josi said. “Is that the kind of trouble you want to get into right after Mandhi leaves?”
She looked at Navran with sparkling eyes. Navran took a deep breath. “No. I’ll probably get into different trouble.”
“So,” Veshta said, “why has my lord and king come to the House of the Ruin today?”
Right, business. Navran took a sip of his tea and said, “Come with me to the palace. You or Adjan.”
Veshta took a long sip of tea and furrowed his brow. “What for?”
“You’re a merchant. You know finance and accounting. I need someone trustworthy.”
“Have you gotten rid of Thudra’s man, then?”
“Karanja-kha?” Navran shook his head. “Can’t until I have someone else.”
Veshta set his tea down and folded his hands. “The problem is, Navran-dar, that there is so much for me to do here. My business grows, and with the influx of Uluriya refugees and immigrants, it grows more. Your rule,” he said with a bow of his head, “is a boon to me, so much so that I do not wish to leave.”
“The post is well paid.”
Veshta lifted his tea. “Money is not the issue. Being the King’s Purse for Virnas sounds like a good way to get rich, but I already am rich. I simply prefer to remain with the business that I have.”
Navran drained the last from his cup and set it down. He glanced over to Josi, who was waiting beneath the colonnade with the pot. At his glance, she came forward to refill his cup.
“Adjan?”
Veshta grimaced. “Likewise. He’s here for a while, and Dhanmi will remain, but he’ll return to Uskhanda in a few months.”
Josi stood over Navran’s shoulder pouring tea. She said quietly, “I could do it.”
Veshta coughed into his cup. “Josi, what did mother say?”
Josi scowled at Veshta. “What did mother say? That Adjan was ruining my chances by keeping me with the books? But we’re here in Virnas, and you know as well as I do there’s no husband for me here.”
Veshta looked into the bottom of his tea. A few breaths passed.
“Could you spare her?” Navran asked.
“I could spare her, Navran-dar,” Veshta said. “I don’t know if it’s prudent. Or if she’s truly qualified.”
Josi guffawed and sat down on the edge of the pool. “I’ve been doing Adjan’s books for years. I’m more qualified than Adjan, and probably than you.”
Veshta murmured and took a sip of his tea.
“What are you worried about, brother?” Josi said. “What mother will say? Srithi? What?”
“It is easier on me than sending Adjan over,” Veshta said with obvious reluctance.
“Maybe she could check Karanja-kha’s account of the treasury?” Navran said. “It would only take a few days.”
Veshta sighed and set his teacup down. “Very well. I can’t speak personally for her experience, but I trust Adjan to not give his purse over to her frivolously.”
“Thank you for your trust in me,” Josi said. Veshta gave her a dark glare, and she looked away, a slight blush showing on her face. “However, I appreciate the offer. Navran-dar, when shall I come to your palace?”
Navran stood. “The new moon is in three days. The saghada have me bound up in ritual for that. But soon after?”
Josi leaped to her feet and bowed to him eagerly. “The day after the new moon, then. I’ll be there.”
Navran smiled. “My gatekeeper will expect you. See you then.”
* * *
Josi arrived at mid-morning. Navran was waiting for her in the east garden, and when the herald announced her arrival he grabbed his cane and rose from the carpet beneath the orange tree, mostly to quell the flutter of nervousness in his belly. A stupid thing, to be nervous. He was the king. They should be nervous coming to him.
He spotted Josi walking through the arch between the courtyard and the garden, with, alas, Amashi following a pace behind, and two of Navran’s personal guards leading. The guards presented the women to Navran, and they both bowed.
“Amashi,” Navran said, “you here as chaperone?”
“Of course,” the old woman said, taking her daughter’s hand protectively. “Not that we have any distrust in our king and Heir, but proprieties must be observed.”
Navran tried to smile. “Always guards with me. Not necessary to have others.”
“Ah, but you’re the king,” Josi said. “You could send your guards away if you were trying to get me alone for improper purposes.”
Navran reddened. That was rather more forward than he expected. Josi seemed to regret the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, and Amashi gasped and yanked on her daughter’s hand. She whispered something in Josi’s ear.
Josi looked down and said, “Forgive me, Navran-dar, my lord and king. I forget myself sometimes, and crack jokes where none should be made.”
“She’s a foolish girl,” Amashi said. “I hope she causes you no more trouble.”
“Forgiven,” Navran said. He took a deep breath and gestured to the north-eastern corner to the palace. “We go in? Treasure house is that way.”
“And the records are in the treasure house?” Josi asked. “What about Karanja-kha?”
“Both,” Navran said. “Karanja-kha waits for me.”
The treasure house was a small wooden building with a roof of hammered bronze and a tiny porch with bamboo rails, sulking in the shade of a banyan tree. The guard tower at the corner of the palace looked down on it, and two more guards waited at its front door. The guards bowed to Navran as he approached, and one put his hand on the heavy bronze ring of the door to push it open.
“Seeing the treasures of a king,” Amashi said quietly, with obvious relish.
Less impressive than you think, Navran thought. Veshta’s household has almost as much gold as mine.
The interior of the treasure house was dark except for the triangle of daylight admitted by the door. A twinge of anxiety thrummed in Navran’s chest. “Where is…?” he began.
“Right here,” Josi said, and Navran heard the rustle of chains as she lifted an oil lamp off of its hanging, and the whisper of her breath as she coaxed the wick back to life. A moment later the shard of daylight was joined by the warm yellow glow of the oil lamp.
“Get the other lamps,” Amashi said impatiently. “My lord Navran-dar, should I close the door?”
“Close it,” Navran said. The door cut them off from daylight and left them in the sepulchral gloom of Josi’s lamp. “Where is Karanja-kha?”
Josi moved around the room lighting the other lamps hanging on their chains. “Ow,” she muttered, as she stumbled over something unseen. Then she lit the lamp, then another, and the light grew like a cool yellow dawn. As it did Navran was perplexed, then horrified.
Palm leaves and boxes were strewn about the floor, torn and bent over each other, chests broken open, clay pots smashed, ink leaking out in sticky black pools. The shelves around the edges of the room were emptied, the boxes they had held scattered on the floor, their contents missing. It looked like the aftermath of a battle. They all fell silent.
“Well,” Amashi said a moment later. “Is it normally like this?”
“Where is Karanja-kha?” Navran said, his voice flattening into a growl. “He was supposed to be here.”
Josi bent and picked up dried palm leaves, glancing at the ink markings scribed onto each of them, and sorting them into piles. “If this is the normal state of the treasure house, then you need a new Purse more b
adly than I suspected.”
Navran’s blood simmered, and he tasted hot anger on the back of his tongue. “It’s not normal.” He turned on his heel, yanked the door open, and pointed viciously at the two sentries. “You two. Was Karanja-kha here this morning?”
They glanced nervously at each other. “He was, Navran-dar,” one of them answered. “Early in the morning. He left a few hours ago, before you came to sit beneath the orange tree.”
“And where did he go?”
“I don’t know,” the man stammered. “He carried out—”
“I don’t care what he carried!” Navran said. “Find him. Bring him to me under arrest.”
The two guards exchanged another glance, then the one who had spoken said, “Yes, my lord. My partner will remain.” And he picked up his spear and sprinted across the garden.
Navran shoved the door open and returned to the gloom of the treasure chamber. Josi was calmly sorting papers, while Amashi clucked in the corner.
“The inner room,” Navran said. “Did either of you look in the inner room?”
“Not yet,” Josi said without looking up from her pages. Navran strode past her and pulled aside the curtain, letting the lamplight filter into the room.
Chaos. Mahogany boxes were tipped onto the floor, their hinges split. Shelves were empty. A few torn shreds of silk lay forlornly over scraps of wood. On the walls, a few decorative swords with rubies on their hilts and silver inlaid patterns on the blades remained in their racks, the only items of value still in evidence.
Navran staggered back, clutching desperately at his cane. He slowly lowered himself to the ground and dropped his head into his hands.
Amashi cooed, “Navran-dar, we’ve come at a bad time. Come, Josi, we should leave the Heir to see after his kingdom.”
Navran raised a hand. “No. Stay.” He had to have someone here he could trust, and two Uluriya women were the best he could do right now. A beer. A vast bowl of warm rice beer, and then a long sleep. Could he have that? He was the king, right? He could get that if he needed to.
Except, of course, he couldn’t. He had a duty to fulfill. With a small groan he regained his feet and went to the sentry.
“You,” he said. He couldn’t remember the guard’s name. “When Karanja-kha left, what did he carry?”
The soldier looked taken aback. “I don’t remember, my lord,” he said. “Himself, some palm-leaves, some purses of coin.”
“Purses of coin. He often took those?”
The man swallowed, regarding Navran with a look of terror. “Yes, my lord. He was the King’s Purse. We never stopped him, that was his job, to come in and take care of the treasures in the house….”
“Yes,” Navran said. “It was.”
He heard a rustle in the house and turned around. Josi sat on the ground, five neat stacks of palm-leaf papers arranged around her, and a heap of unsorted pages in front. She read one leaf closely and chewed her lip. “Oh, dear,” she said.
“What?” Navran said. He came and stood behind her.
“This document,” she said. “It has the imprint of your seal.” She pointed to the bottom, where Navran’s new seal, a pentacle in a circle, was visible in brown ink. “Did you give Karanja-kha your seal?”
“No,” Navran said. “I stamped the ones he sent to me.”
“Did you read them first?”
“I don’t know how to read!” he said, too loudly. Across the room Amashi winced. Navran ground his teeth together. He mustn’t let his anger get the better of him. Nearly in a whisper he went on, “Mandhi read them for me. Until she left.”
“But now who’s been doing it?”
“The saghada Bhudman,” Navran said. “He’s teaching me to read, the ordinary script and the secret script of the saghada. But….” He remembered quite clearly the moment when Bhudman had not been at the palace, and Karanja had come rushing in, bowing and kissing Navran’s hands and claiming some vague financial emergency. “Karanja-kha had me stamp something two days ago. No one else was around me. What does it say?”
Josi swallowed. “The House of Thudra has debts, apparently. He owes a lot of money to the majakhadir of Asandhu and Mudhisha, and I guess they were concerned now that you’re keeping Thudra in your dungeon. And so you’ve agreed to personally honor the debts of the House of Thudra.”
Navran began to tremble. “Are the debts large?”
Josi breathed in sharply. “Well….”
Navran stood, leaning heavily on his cane so as not to fall. The floor wobbled precariously beneath him. A low, mirthless laugh trickled out of his lips. “Not the first time I owe debts I can’t pay.”
Amashi looked at Navran with maternal pity, knitting her hands together and shaking her head constantly. “Navran-dar, are you sure that you don’t want us to leave?”
“Of course not!” Navran snapped, and he pounded the point of his cane on the ground. Amashi startled and shrunk back. “Josi is the only one helping me.”
“Also,” Josi said, “it seems like Karanja-kha was skimming money from the tariffs, and he wasn’t working hard to hide it. Perhaps that’s why he left.”
“No,” Navran said. The treasure house couldn’t be emptied overnight, not without drawing attention. Karanja-kha must have been taking out coin bit by bit for weeks. “He planned this for a while. Probably with Thudra’s help.”
Footsteps pounded against the wooden slats of the porch outside, and a voice called, “Navran-dar, my lord and king, we have news of Karanja-kha!”
Navran stormed through the door and onto the porch as fiercely as he could with his cane. The treasure house sentry had returned with two others, terror written on all three of their faces. They all knelt and bowed their heads, then the first sentry threw himself to the ground and grabbed Navran’s ankles with his hands. He kissed Navran’s feet and wailed,
“Navran-dar! Have mercy! I didn’t know that anything was amiss. I swear, I had no part in Karanja-kha’s treachery. I’ve taken no coin from his hand other than my pay. Have mercy!”
“Stop that,” Navran snarled. “Where did he go?”
“Merciful Navran-dar, these other sentries also saw him as he left the city with a slave. The slave pulled a cart which was heavily laden, but no one asked what it carried. He was recognized as the King’s Purse, and he had papers with your seal. Navran-dar, have pity on us. Everything he did seemed to be official. We didn’t conspire with him. We are faithful—”
“I said stop that.” The sentry abruptly cut off his pleading, but didn’t rise or release his hold on Navran’s feet. “Did you see where he went?”
One of the gate sentries said in a quavery voice, “Through the west gate, my lord.”
“Then go after him!”
The gate sentries looked at each other reluctantly, but didn’t move. Navran made a noise of irritation.
“Tell your commander,” he said. “My order. Take as many men as you need. Go after him. Now!”
They immediately jumped to their feet and bowed, then sprinted off through the garden. Navran groaned and leaned against the wall. For all the goat-pissed silver in the world… oh, he wanted a drink.
The door of the treasure house creaked, and Josi stuck her head out. “Navran-dar?” she said cautiously.
“Josi,” was all he managed to say.
“I found a document,” she said. “Would you like to hear it?”
“What document?”
“The outlays for upkeep of the militia, the palace, the civil service, and everything else that’s paid from your purse. I don’t know if it’s accurate—I’ll have to do an audit—but it seems to be in Karanja-kha’s hand, and for his own purposes, so I don’t see why he would have falsified it. Perhaps I should get the other papers in order first, so that—”
“Tell me what it says,” he snapped.
“Yes, Navran-dar,” she said, flinching a little. Navran immediately regretted his tone. Josi’s large dark eyes were downcast, and she took a deep breath
and said a very large number.
“Is that how much we have?”
“No, my lord. That’s how much you spend. A week.”
Navran coughed and sputtered. He hadn’t had any idea that such a quantity of silver passed through his palace. “And how much do we have?”
She winced a little. “Almost nothing. I haven’t counted, but I looked in the other room. There’s not much there.”
Navran sighed and hung his head. He would need to call Veshta in, and this time he wouldn’t ask, he would order. There had to be something they could do to secure this place so that the Purse couldn’t just walk out with the entire treasury of Virnas on a cart. In the meantime, an idea formed in the back of his mind. “The names of the khadir Thudra owed money to. What are they?”
“The majakhadir of Asandhu and Mudhisha,” she said. “Why?”
He looked at her square on, and she raised her eyes to meet his gaze for a moment. A tiny smile showed on her lips, then she bit her lip and looked down again. His mood rose a little. “Pay my soldiers so they don’t mutiny. Can you do that?”
Her face brightened and she said, “I’ll find a way, Navran-dar.”
“I’ll speak to the majakhadir.”
If there was one thing that Navran knew, it was how to stall creditors. For a while, at least.
Kirshta
They had been stuck in Jaitha for a month, and Kirshta still couldn’t summon fire. He was starting to get annoyed.
The only place in the barracks at Jaitha which Kirshta could use for meditation was a watchtower at the north end of the building. The watchtower was built into the west wall of the inner city, and from his vantage atop the tower Kirshta looked out over the rain-swollen Amsadhu and saw the jewel-green rice fields interlocked in mosaic on the far shore. Apurta was with him as the sentry, and his job was to watch across the Amsadhu in case, somehow, someone should advance to it and threaten the city.
Kirshta didn’t care about that. Jaitha could burn—actually, it had already burned—Jaitha could rot, for all he cared. Far to the north was Majasravi. And in Majasravi was the Ushpanditya, the seat of the empire, and his sister Vapathi.
