Snare

  ‘Well, it’s not quite like horses. A stud will mount any mare in heat, and a mare in heat will take any stud. Our ancestors were H’mai. They must have agreed to all of it, the long-term plan, I mean, as well as having children together.’

  ‘You’re right, yes. They must have agreed. I’m beginning to see why Mullah Agvar wanted to get away from them. The Settlers, I mean, breeding people like horses, talking people into doing it. No wonder he called them demon talents. But I wish to God his successors hadn’t taken it out on us.’

  ‘Us? Oh, you mean the men in the Chosen.’

  ‘Yes. The legion of the damned, that’s us. Through no fault of our own. How’s that for justice?’

  ‘You’re not really damned, you know. The play should have made that clear if nothing else.’

  ‘You’re right.’ He managed to smile. ‘I don’t know why I keep talking about damnation. I really don’t.’

  ‘It was something you could believe in, I suppose. Now you realize you don’t really know much about yourself or what’s going to happen to you. You’re alone again, aren’t you?’

  For the briefest of moments Zayn wanted to throw his half-full glass of wine into her face. Very carefully he set it down on the table, then stood, steadying himself on the back of the chair.

  ‘If we’re going to meet Loy’s daughter, and if she’s a priestess in training or whatever that is, I’d better sober up. I saw a pump outside by the stables. I’ll just go stick my head under it.’

  Now that Soutan was no longer pretending to be a sorcerer, he had stopped running off to hide when he used his crystals. That afternoon he was sitting on the green lawn by the manor house with the box in front of him and Arkazo next to him. Warkannan saw them when he came out of the stables. On the soft grass Warkannan’s footsteps made little sound, and Soutan was so absorbed in what he was saying that he never looked round. Warkannan stopped a few feet behind them and listened as Soutan muttered the strange words that he called commands.

  Soutan handed Arkazo the crystal, who laughed, shook his head, and handed it back. When Soutan spoke again, he used Vranz, and Arkazo answered him in the same. Nodding in agreement every now and then, Soutan listened intently to Arkazo’s every word. Warkannan disliked the way Arkazo responded to that flattering intensity by smiling and leaning a bit closer. In the cavalry he’d seen naive young officers courted this way by certain experienced sergeants – not out of sexual interest, but in the hopes of recruiting an ally against the senior officers should the sergeants need one.

  ‘Find something interesting?’ Warkannan said in Kazraki.

  Soutan shrieked, startled, then twisted around and glared at him. Arkazo smothered a laugh.

  ‘I didn’t realize there was someone behind me,’ Soutan said with immense dignity.

  ‘You’re not the only one who can move quietly,’ Warkannan said.

  Soutan muttered something under his breath and made a great show of smoothing down his shirt.

  ‘Did you find Zahir?’ Warkannan went on.

  ‘Yes. He’s in Sarla, which is the worst possible place he could be. I could only see him for a few minutes. He was washing under a pump, and the spirit rider must have been some distance away. Once he finished, he went inside a building, and I lost him.’ Soutan glanced at the crystal in his hand. ‘I’d better close this down. That spirit rider might be able to pick up my scan.’

  ‘By all means,’ Warkannan said. ‘I’m sure she enjoys wasting her time and energy on troubling you.’

  Soutan glared at him without speaking.

  ‘Well, can’t you just hide from her somehow? You used to.’

  ‘That’s what provoked her into overriding my crystals. Since we’re safe here, I don’t want to risk it. Once we leave, I’ll have to take the chance, but it’s a devil’s choice.’

  ‘Uncle?’ Arkazo said. ‘Why haven’t we left? Everyone around here knows about Jezro Khan. It won’t be hard for Benumar to find out where he is.’

  ‘Because we can’t take the dookis’s bodyguards with us. We’re setting a trap.’

  Arkazo grinned. ‘That makes sense.’

  Warkannan hesitated on the edge of telling him the truth. Soutan was watching him with a bland little smile.

  ‘Besides,’ Warkannan said, ‘we don’t really know that Benumar’s going to try to kill the khan. He may be simply searching for information about Soutan. That was his original assignment, and the Chosen tend to follow orders. As long as we reach Andjaro before he reaches his superior officers, what he does won’t matter at all.’

  Arkazo thought this over for a minute. ‘That’s true,’ he said at last. ‘If we even have to worry about getting Jezro Khan home.’

  ‘Yes. If.’

  Warkannan walked on, heading for the house. He was looking for Jezro and found him sitting and reading in the small blue parlour. The glass double doors led out into a rose garden; Jezro had turned his chair so that he’d see scarlet roses whenever he looked up from his book.

  ‘There it is,’ Warkannan said, ‘my copy of the Mirror, that is.’

  ‘I figured this was yours.’ Jezro looked up. ‘Do you want it back?’

  ‘Not while you’re reading it.’ Warkannan sat down opposite him.

  ‘I just wanted to look up one verse.’ Jezro closed the book and handed it over. ‘It goes, “And why should you not fight in the cause of God, when the weak – men, women, and children – cry out, ‘Oh Lord, deliver us from this city whose leaders are oppressing us, raise up one who will protect us, and You be our Lord and Master.’”’

  ‘That’s appropriate, yes. I hope you’re taking it to heart.’

  ‘Of course I am. The question is, am I the man to do the delivering? Gemet must have sons. Can’t you form a faction around one of them?’

  ‘Here’s how paranoid your brother is. Every time one of his wives gives birth to a son, he has the child smothered. The gossip is that he does it himself, but just to make sure it’s done right, not because he enjoys it.’

  ‘Lord preserve!’ Jezro was whispering. ‘That’s really horrible.’

  ‘Yes, it certainly is.’ Warkannan laid a hand on the Mirror. ‘Your entire family line could disappear.’

  ‘No loss to the world, considering how Gemet’s turned out.’

  ‘It could be a loss to the khanate. When he dies, there’s going to be a civil war if there’s no legitimate heir. That’s another reason I decided that I could stomach an armed revolt. Sooner or later, there’s going to be a war in Kazrajistan. If it’s sooner, the country will be worth salvaging afterwards.’

  ‘I see your point. I might borrow the book again.’

  ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d rather lend it to.’

  ‘Good old Idres!’ Jezro paused for a grin. ‘I didn’t have a copy of the Mirror with me, and the last time I had a chance to read it was about eight years ago. I’d taken refuge in a seminary, you see, run by the Church of the One God.’

  ‘You what?’ Warkannan settled the book in his lap. ‘That’s the last place I would have thought you’d go.’

  ‘Well, I had to go somewhere, didn’t I? No, to be honest, I wanted to, and they were kind enough to take me in. I realized after a year or so that their way wasn’t mine, so I left.’ Jezro wiped his nose on his sleeve, then fished for a handkerchief in his shirt pocket. ‘Sorry, the damn thing runs all the time. But go on, Idres, admit it. You’re shocked, aren’t you? I’m a different man from the one you used to know.’

  ‘All right, since you’ve brought it up. Yes, I’m shocked at how much you’ve changed, but it strikes me as all on the surface. Underneath you’re still the same man.’

  ‘What? When I think back to how much I used to drink and gamble and joke around, I can hardly recognize myself.’

  ‘That didn’t matter. Underneath you were all honour and generosity. Flamboyant, yes, but so? You were young, handsome, and rich. We expected you to run wild now and then.’

  ‘Now you’re the
one who’s being generous.’

  Warkannan shrugged the remark away. ‘You’ve changed in a lot of little ways, but nearly dying would have changed anyone.’

  ‘That’s true. Tell me something, Idres. I was an arrogant little bastard, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Of course. You were supposed to be, a khan and the commanding officer both. The men loved you for it.’

  ‘I’ve learned its limits, arrogance. I won’t be able to be dashing or whatever the hell that was any more. Do you really think I’m fit to rule?’

  Jezro spoke so seriously that Warkannan took his time about answering. ‘Well,’ Warkannan said at last. ‘In the absolute best case, you’ll step right into the role and do splendidly. In the absolute worst case, you’ll still be better than Gemet. In the most probable case, you’ll make mistakes at first, but people will overlook them because you’re not Gemet, and by the time they think about grumbling, you’ll have learned enough to do a good job.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Jezro was looking out the glass doors, where red roses swayed and trembled in a slow breeze. ‘That’s the truth, all right, the kind of truth you always could see when I couldn’t.’

  ‘If it’s true you need to act on it.’

  ‘Do I? Now, there you might be right, you might be wrong. I just don’t know yet.’

  Warkannan considered making another move, but he knew how stubborn Jezro could be when he felt pressured.

  ‘It has to be your decision,’ Warkannan said. ‘I know that.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Tell me something though. Why did you send that letter? Just for old times’ sake?’

  ‘Mostly, yes. I wanted to see you and Benumar again or at least find out if you were still alive. I still miss Haz Kazrak. The landscape here’s so damn flat, it gets on my nerves. But I also had this sentimental idea about making my old friends rich.’ Jezro waved a hand at the lamps. ‘How much do you think technology like this would sell for back home?’

  ‘A fortune, yes, if the mullahs didn’t confiscate and smash it first.’

  ‘There is that. I keep thinking that it’s time to open a few minds and let the truth seep in.’

  ‘You’d have an easier time of that if you were Great Khan.’

  ‘You bastard!’ Jezro was grinning at him. ‘Do you want to know what I did after I left the seminary?’

  ‘Yes. What?’

  ‘Washed dishes in a hohte. Then I got taken on as an apprentice vegetable seller in Kors.’

  Warkannan’s first reaction was laughter; then he realized, from Jezro’s wry smile, that the khan was perfectly serious.

  ‘Being a khan means nothing away from Kazrajistan,’ Jezro went on. ‘I had to eat, and all I knew was the army. The one here wouldn’t take me, because of the leg.’ He laid a hand on his right knee. ‘But that’s where I met the dookis, when I was selling vegetables, and she was out among the people, displaying her famous common touch. I sold her a couple of pounds of true-carrots, if I remember rightly, and then she asked about the scars. You poor man, says she, you must have had an awful accident. Oh no, Mada, says me, they did it on purpose. So she wanted to hear the whole story. But without the carrots, who knows?’

  ‘Carrots?’ Warkannan could hear how feeble he sounded, and he cleared this throat. ‘Well, God works in mysterious ways. That’s all I can say to that.’

  After the heat and horse-stink of Ammadin’s room in the hohte, Master Zhoc’s dimly lit office felt cool and airy. Zhoc himself, dressed in summer whites, made a splendid contrast to Zayn Hassan as well. Loy decided that she liked her men civilized, thank you. Zhoc leaned forward in his chair, making notes on a rushi scrap as she talked.

  ‘This could be the find we’ve been praying for,’ Loy finished up. ‘None of the usual fortune hunters could have reached a site deep in ChaMeech territory.’

  ‘No, but it sounds like the ChaMeech have been taking things out of it,’ Zhoc said.

  ‘Maybe, but what about this Sibyl? The stone woman.’

  ‘I’ll admit that she intrigues me.’ Zhoc leaned back in his chair and stared at the bookcase on the far side of his office. ‘I wish the spirit rider had told you what colour of stone.’

  ‘She may not know. Her informant’s a ChaMeech, and who’s to say that the ChaMeech see colour the same way we do?’

  ‘Good point. Very good point. I wonder if they’d like to be our guests tomorrow, Ammadin and Hassan. For lunch, say, in a good restaurant.’

  ‘Hassan’s not the kind of man you take to good restaurants. He carries a long knife, and he acts like he has three balls. At least three.’

  ‘Loy, your language sometimes –’

  ‘So? I’m short. I’ve got to do something.’ Loy grinned at him. ‘But I’ll talk to Ammadin tonight. Well, in just a little while now.’ She glanced out the office window to a sky turned gold by the lowering sun. ‘I have no idea when they’re leaving, or what Hassan’s quest is.’

  ‘I’d like to talk with her. Huh – I’ll need a refresher course in magical lingo, though. I haven’t had to pretend I was a sorcerer in years.’

  Here, Loy realized, was her opportunity to bring up Ammadin’s remark, to tell Zhoc, as duty demanded, that at least one person among the Tribes had seen through the legal myths that defined the fragile balance of the planet’s cultures. She should speak, she knew she should, but somehow she found herself answering with a smile alone.

  ‘Well, there’s probably no real rush,’ Zhoc continued. ‘Even if she’s willing to tell us about the site, there isn’t time to get funding for a proper expedition this summer. We’ll have to wait till next year, anyway.’

  Loy arranged a thoughtful expression and nodded. Telling him about the wild idea she was considering could wait. She still didn’t know if she had the nerve to go through with it.

  The sunset touched the river with scarlet and gilded the dome of the temple. The red lace-leaf trees quivered in a soft breeze. Above them, clouds of an insect Ammadin had never seen before swarmed and fluttered, caught in the shafts of evening light.

  ‘Look at those!’ Ammadin pointed at the swarm. ‘Their wings.’

  Zayn glanced, visibly unimpressed, but she paused, studying the six flat blades, each about the size of a thumbnail, that made up the insect wings. When they flew, the wing-blades rippled and flashed iridescent in the sun. She wondered if they’d give that light back to the air once it grew dark.

  ‘There’s the sorcerer,’ Zayn said abruptly.

  Dressed in a pair of serviceable blue trousers and a grey shirt, Loy Millou was standing by a wooden bench, and to Ammadin she looked as exotic as the wingbuhs, partly because she was so petite, with delicate bones to match her short stature. She had thick, dark hair, cropped at her jawline, flat cheekbones, and eyes of a particularly luminous black.

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ Ammadin remarked. ‘Loy, I mean.’

  ‘What? Oh, uh yes, she is.’

  Zayn was, she assumed, still brooding about the Recallers.

  ‘We can talk more later,’ Ammadin said. ‘Loy’s seen us.’

  Up ahead Loy waved madly, as if she thought that Ammadin would overlook her. ‘There you are,’ Loy sang out. ‘I just got here myself.’

  For a moment they stood outside the gate that led into the temple compound, as Ammadin was thinking of it. Loy chatted in Vranz, asking about their dinner, if they liked the hohte well enough, their horses, and all the while she smelled of anxiety, a smell that increased every time Zayn spoke. One anxiety, at least, Ammadin could ease.

  ‘I did talk with Water Woman,’ Ammadin said in the spirit language. ‘She’d be pleased to speak with you.’

  Loy beamed like a child. ‘I don’t know what kind of crystals you have,’ Loy said, ‘but I have a large one that allows you to see and speak at the same time. Maybe tomorrow morning – or wait, are you leaving first thing?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Ammadin turned to Zayn and switched to Hirl-Onglay. ‘I’m thinking of staying here tomorrow, t
o talk with Loy and Water Woman.’

  ‘Oh.’ He looked at her for a moment, then put on his mask – she could think of no other way to conceptualize it, except as the mask, that smooth, perfect lack of any feeling or thought upon his face. ‘But I’d better get on the road.’

  ‘That’s true. The longer we put off separating, the more it’s going to hurt.’ She hesitated, but she couldn’t bear seeing him so desolate. ‘Both of us.’

  The mask dissolved, and he smiled in something like triumph. Loy had taken a few steps away, as if she knew that they were speaking of private things, to lean on the fence and stare up at the dome, still pale gold against the twilight sky. In the rising breeze the waters of the reflecting pool rippled, and the dome’s image danced.

  ‘Loy?’ Ammadin said in the spirit language. ‘I’ll still be here tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s wonderful! You could come to my house for lunch, if you could spare me the time. I’ll tell you how to get there after you’ve seen Rozi. I’d love to talk some more about Sibyl. And Soutan, too, if your man would like that.’

  ‘He’ll be leaving early in the morning on his spirit quest.’

  ‘It’s a good thing I picked this up, then.’ Loy fished in a trouser pocket and brought out a small rectangle of pale blue quartz. A gold chain ran through a hole on one narrow end.

  ‘Is that the imp?’ Ammadin said.

  ‘Yes. Zayn?’ Loy held it out at arm’s length in his general direction, as if she were offering food to a dangerous animal. ‘You’ll need to charge it in the sunlight, at least twice a day.’

  ‘Thank you, I’ll remember that.’ Zayn took it and held it up to the last of the sunset. ‘How does it work?’

  ‘It’s already working, and as long as you keep it charged, it’ll keep working. Wear it around your neck. If you take it off to lay it in the sun to charge it, stay close to it. Really close. Now, if you’re inside a building, you won’t need it, but don’t lose it somewhere, all right?’