The Daylight War
He looked back to Kasaad, indicating he rise. The khaffit did so, slowly, and then opened his arms. Slowly at first, Inevera drifted towards them, but she closed the last steps in a rush, and they embraced tightly. Manvah threw her arms around them both.
Jardir watched as their auras became one, finally flowing together as a family should.
After a moment, Inevera looked up at him. He could see the love burning in her, but also her question before she could even utter it. ‘How did you know?’
To his surprise, it was Manvah who answered, squeezing her daughter’s shoulder. ‘He is the Deliverer, daughter. Kaji could see into the hearts of men, and he has been born again in Ahmann Jardir. The time for doubt is over.’
Jardir gritted his teeth as he entered his throne room, seeing Kajivah and Hanya waiting with Ashan and Shanjat. He could see the rage and indignation in their auras, and assumed he was in for another lengthy debate on the merits of Sharum’ting.
‘Everam’s balls, is a minute of peace too much to ask?’ Inevera muttered as she followed at his back. Jardir chuckled, but then Hanya turned to face him, and he saw her eye.
He was across the room in an eyeblink, cupping her chin firmly but gently as he examined the bruise. It was a dark, angry colour, but nothing compared with the darkness of his own anger.
‘Who struck you, sister?’ he asked quietly.
Hanya sobbed and did not answer. ‘Her worthless husband,’ Kajivah said for her. His sister’s aura confirmed it. Jardir turned to Shanjat.
‘He is already in custody, Deliverer,’ Shanjat said. ‘We found him in his quarters in the palace. He was lying in a pool of his own piss, drunk on couzi.’
Jardir drew a deep breath, embracing all his rage and letting it fall away as he climbed the steps to the Skull Throne. He did not trust himself in striking distance of the man. ‘Bring him before me. Now.’
Inevera squeezed his shoulder briefly in support before taking her place on the pillows beside his throne. He could feel the strength of her support, and drew upon it heavily.
Hasik was dragged into the room like an animal, held fast by two Sharum with alagai-catchers. His arms were chained to a metal band around his waist, with a spear shaft threaded through his elbows behind his back. His ankles were connected by a short length of chain. A bit kept his teeth open and his tongue pushed back, held in place with a tight leather strap. He was hungover, his aura bright with pain and impotent rage. Beneath that was shame, and fear. He knew what he had done, and what it meant. It was all Jardir could do not to kill him on sight.
‘Sister,’ he commanded instead. ‘Tell me everything that happened.’
Hanya was still sobbing, but with soothing from Kajivah, she managed to draw strength enough to look up and meet her brother’s eyes. ‘I do not understand it myself, brother. Hasik has been vexed with me before, but he has never drunk couzi, or struck me. But these last few days, he changed. He began sneaking bottles into our chambers, drinking too much and weeping to himself when he thought he was alone. I tried to offer comfort as a wife should, but all my efforts were rebuffed. Then, last night as he slept, I decided to … surprise him.’ Her aura grew hot with shame.
Jardir regretted forcing her to recount the story in open court, but what was done was done. ‘What happened then?’
Hanya’s aura was bright with pain and confusion to match her shame. ‘His manhood … it was gone.’
‘Gone?’ Jardir asked.
‘Cut away,’ Hanya said. ‘There was only a scar in its place, and a tiny metal tube.’ Ashan and Shanjat’s auras told him they had already heard this news, but he could see the discomfort the topic gave them still. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably, Jardir included. Only Inevera and the Damaji’ting, used to eunuch servants, were unperturbed.
Hanya’s aura told him the rest, though he could easily have guessed it. ‘Hasik woke, saw that you had seen his shame, and struck you.’
Hanya nodded, and Jardir turned back to Hasik. ‘Show me.’
The humiliation in Hasik’s aura was a scream in the air, but he stood slumped, not resisting as one of the guards pulled down his pantaloons, revealing that he had indeed lost his manhood. Jardir nodded to the guard, and he undid the strap, pulling the bit from Hasik’s teeth.
‘What happened to you, Hasik?’ Jardir demanded.
Hasik did not respond right away, his eyes still on the floor. ‘I thought it might grow back.’
‘Eh?’ Jardir asked.
‘If I killed enough alagai,’ Hasik said. ‘If I bathed in their magic, I thought it might grow back.’
Inevera nodded. ‘It does not work that way, Sharum. What is severed cannot be regrown. You only closed the wound.’ Hasik slumped again.
‘Who did this to you?’ Jardir asked. ‘You will still answer for striking my sister, but you are my brother-in-law and one of the Spears of the Deliverer. Any assault upon you is one upon me, as well.’
Hasik looked at him, but his shame and fear were overwhelming, and he did not speak.
‘The Deliverer asked you a question, dog!’ Ashan barked. Shanjat punched Hasik hard in the face, knocking him to the floor. Still, the giant Sharum was silent.
He would rather die than tell me, Jardir realized. Fortunately, for a Sharum there were worse fates than death.
‘Strip his blacks, and burn them,’ Jardir said. ‘Cut off the hand he struck my sister with and throw him out in tan. I will dissolve his marriage and he can live out his days a crippled khaffit, denied Heaven for all eternity.’
‘No, please!’ Hasik cried in anguish. ‘I have served you loyally! It was Abban! Abban the cursed khaffit!’ His aura said he was telling the truth, and upon hearing it, Jardir was not surprised that Hasik would have been ashamed to admit it.
Still, it presented him with a difficult problem. He looked to Shanjat. ‘Take a dozen men and find the khaffit. Bring him to me untouched. If there is so much as a hair out of place before I question him, it will be paid for ten thousandfold.’
Shanjat bowed, leaving quickly. Before long, he returned with Abban in tow. Hasik remained chained and noosed, but he had been allowed the dignity of his clothes once more. When Abban appeared, he recovered something of himself, seeming to slump as he prepared himself to spring. Jardir could see ghostly visions of him leaping at Abban as he planned the strike. If he could break free and kill the khaffit, the guards might slay him while he still wore his blacks.
Jardir looked to the men holding the alagai-catchers. These were Spears of the Deliverer, and no fools. They were prepared, pulling tight as Hasik sprang and choking him to the ground.
He turned back to regard Abban, probing deeply with his crownsight. The khaffit had already guessed the purpose of the summons, but his aura was calm. He was indeed guilty, but expected to talk his way out of this unscathed. Normally, Abban was skilled at masking his emotions, but here his arrogance was without end. He looked at Hasik flatly, but his aura was one of utter disdain and more than a little satisfaction.
‘Did you castrate Hasik?’ Jardir asked, wasting no time on pleasantries. His anger was only growing. He might be left with no choice but to kill his bodyguard and most favoured advisor both.
‘No, Deliverer,’ Abban said. It was truth, but not the whole truth.
‘Did you order your kha’Sharum to do it?’ he asked, losing patience.
Abban nodded. ‘Yes, Deliverer.’
The men in the room all began angry muttering, but Jardir thumped his spear, and they fell silent. Abban still stood there, calm.
‘I gave you those warriors to protect your business and facilitate trade, not to assault my warriors,’ Jardir said.
‘And so I have,’ Abban said. He turned to Hasik, lifting his crutch to point at the chained man. ‘That one, frustrated with your decree that I not be harmed, has been taking out his ire in my pavilion. You send him to me frequently as your errand boy, and without fail, he takes the opportunity to steal, or break precious merchan
dise for the pleasure of it.’
‘And for this, you sever his cock?!’ Jardir demanded.
Abban shook his head. ‘Trinkets and baubles are easily replaced, Deliverer. My daughter’s virginity is not. Nor the honour of my wives.’
‘The khaffit lies, Deliverer!’ Hasik shouted. ‘I never …!’
Jardir gave a curt gesture, and one of the guards tightened his noose, cutting off his words. ‘I am Shar’Dama Ka, Hasik, and can see your heart. The next lie that escapes your lips will cost you your life, your honour, and your place in Heaven.’
Hasik’s eyes widened, and his aura went cold.
‘Did you rape Abban’s daughter, Hasik?’ Jardir asked softly.
Hasik was weeping openly now. He did not have the strength to answer, but he nodded. Hanya began sobbing again. Kajivah pulled her daughter in close, catching the tears on her breast while she glared daggers at Hasik.
‘And his wives?’ Jardir asked. Again, a defeated nod.
‘Nevertheless, this cannot be allowed to stand, Deliverer,’ Ashan said. ‘If khaffit – even kha’Sharum – can kill dal, then all civilization crumbles.’
‘Your pardon, Damaji,’ Abban said, ‘but neither I nor my men have killed anyone.’ He gestured to Hasik. ‘As you can see, the Deliverer’s bodyguard is very much alive and able to continue his part in Sharak Ka.’
Jardir glared at him. ‘Why did you not come to me with this?’
Abban bowed as deeply as his crutch would allow. ‘The Shar’Dama Ka has more pressing matters than giving constant reprimands to overzealous Sharum and dama seeking to find loopholes to bully me without breaking your decree.’
Jardir did not miss the change in Shanjat’s and Ashan’s auras at those words. They, too, were guilty of the crime, if not so unsubtly as Hasik. He would have to deal with them in turn.
But then he looked back at Abban, and wondered. Abban was asking, nay, demanding, the right to defend himself. The khaffit stared at him calmly, daring him to take the Sharum’s side over his. If you are fool enough to turn on me over this, then my loyalty has been misplaced, his aura said.
Jardir sighed loudly. ‘Time and again, I have told men in this very hall that Abban is not to be harmed. He is my property, and any harm that comes to him will be from me alone.
‘Every man has the right to stop his daughter’s rape, or avenge it if he can. Even khaffit. Even chin. If Hasik was too weak to defend himself, then he was not worthy of the prize. His cock has gotten him in trouble for the last time. He has sons and daughters to carry on his name, and as the khaffit says, he is still fit for sharak.’
He looked to Hasik. ‘You have paid your due to Abban. The price for striking my sister is divorce, not only from your Jiwah Ka, but your other wives as well. I will not have my sister married to half a man. Hanya will keep her sister-wives, all your property and children.’ He could see how he was crushing Hasik’s spirit, but he did not pity the man. He still remembered what Hasik had done to him, all those years ago in the Maze.
‘You,’ he pointed his spear at the chained warrior, ‘will keep your spear, your shield, and your blacks. You are expelled from the Spears of the Deliverer, but Jayan will find you a new unit to fight for. None here will speak of your injury, and if discovered, you may say it was an alagai wound. Continue to win glory in the night, and you may yet see Heaven. Break Everam’s law again, with even so much as a cup of couzi, and I will see you cast into Nie’s abyss.’
He looked to Ashan and Shanjat. ‘I trust the lesson is clear to you, as well?’
Both men looked chastened, and nodded. ‘Good,’ Jardir said. ‘Make sure the other Sharum and dama know this as well. I will not repeat it.’
Inevera went immediately to her Chamber of Shadows when the audience was over. After the scene with her parents, she had wanted nothing more than to have some time alone with her husband, but it was not to be. The usual mass of courtiers and petitioners were lining up to make their pleas before the Skull Throne, and she had no patience to sit through it all.
She had hoped to save the blood taken from Abban’s kerchief for the right moment, but with his power – and boldness – growing, she could no longer afford to wait. She had not known Ahmann had given the khaffit warriors of his own, and it explained much. Still, she could not believe any kha’Sharum a match for her eunuch Watchers, trained by Enkido himself. They had killed Damaji’s wives in their beds while the men slept beside them.
Hasik had deserved his fate, and so, perhaps, had her Watchers, if they had been fool enough to be caught. But still the trend disturbed her. Already, the khaffit had tried to supplant her. How long before he attempted to strike at her again?
She had leached the blood from the cloth while it was still fresh, storing it in a sealed vial. She took this now, pouring it over her dice. ‘Almighty Everam, give me knowledge of Abban asu Chabin am’Haman am’Kaji. Can he be trusted to serve the Deliverer? Will he continue to strike at me?’ She felt the dice grow warm as she shook, and then cast them to the floor, staring at the brightly glowing symbols.
As always, she was prepared to follow their guidance, but she was not prepared for the answer.
– The khaffit is loyal to the Deliverer. Your fates are intertwined. Harm to one is the same as harm to the other.—
30
My True Friend
333 AR Autumn
Arlen breathed deeply, unused to feeling so afraid.
‘Sure you need to do this?’ Renna asked.
Arlen nodded. ‘Ent got excuse to put things off any longer. Hollow’s recovering, and they know what to expect now. Rojer’s Jongleurs are spreading word wide through the duchy, and folk will come from all over when they hear we won. Defences’ll be stronger by the next new moon than they were on the last. Equinox is just a fortnight away, new moon ten days after that. I’m gonna do this, need to do it now. Ent got time to ride all the way to Rizon. I’ll be careful. Won’t let myself be pulled into the Core.’
He turned to Renna before she could reply, seeing in her aura that he had misunderstood the question. ‘You weren’t asking about me skating so far. You ent sure I should go at all.’
Renna gave him a look that matched the annoyance in her aura perfectly. ‘That Jongleur’s mind-readin’ act of yours is startin’ to give folk the shivers.’
‘It’s not mind reading,’ Arlen said.
‘Heart reading, then,’ Renna said. ‘Makes you hard to talk to, way you glance at a body and know everything they’re feeling, even better’n they do themselves.’
Arlen laughed. ‘Creator, if only it were so.’
Renna looked away, staring up at the stars so he could not see her face – as if that could hide anything from him now. ‘Like you’re in my head sometimes, way that demon was …’
‘Ent like that, Ren,’ Arlen said, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. ‘You see the same things I do with your wardsight. Reckon everyone with the sight does. Look close and it can tell you all sorts of things about a body. Just figuring it out myself, and I cheated a bit, stealing some of the language from the mind demon we met when I was in its head. Soon I’ll be able to teach it to you, one way or another.’
‘Not sure I like the sound of that,’ Renna said. ‘Love you, Arlen Bales, but my head’s my own place. Ent lookin’ to share it with anyone.’
Arlen nodded. ‘Honest word.’
She looked at him, her aura amused. ‘Don’t think you’ve tricked me by changing the subject. You sure this trip is a good idea? This is what you want?’
Arlen shook his head. ‘All I ever wanted was to kill demons. Didn’t want to war with Krasia. Didn’t want Miln making flamework weapons. Didn’t want to be the corespawned Deliverer.’
He sighed, feeling so very, very tired. ‘But it seems the world means to make me one, like it or not. All because Ahmann Jardir thinks the Creator speaks to him.’
Renna tilted her head, regarding him. She’s trying to read my aura, he thought, surpris
ed at how disconcerting it was. He felt a rush as she pulled a wisp of magic through him, Knowing.
‘You still love him, even now,’ Renna said. ‘Like he’s your brother.’
Arlen shrugged. ‘Never had a friend like that in my life, and I’ve had a few. He was proud, and casually cruel in the way of Sharum. We argued plenty, but there was no one else in the world I wanted to guard my back when night fell.’ He shuddered suddenly, feeling goose pimples rise on his skin though the night was not cold. ‘At least, until he stabbed me there.’
‘And you think throwin’ him off a cliff is the answer,’ Renna said.
Arlen shrugged again. ‘Don’t know, Ren, but I can’t leave things the way they are. For everyone’s sake, we’ve got to make a change. Got to do something the minds won’t expect.’
‘Worried about you skatin’, too,’ Renna admitted.
‘Me, too,’ Arlen said, taking another deep breath. Renna reached out, taking his chin in her hand and pulling him into a kiss. ‘Love you, Arlen Bales.’
He felt some of his tension ease, and smiled. ‘Love you, Renna Bales. You keep the Hollow safe while I’m gone.’
Renna nodded. ‘And you come back quick.’
‘Swear by the sun,’ Arlen said, and dissipated.
Immediately Arlen felt the call of the Core, the source of all magic, begging to be explored. Faint fractions of its power drifted up all around him in paths, and he took the nearest of these, making sure to keep his sense of direction even as he passed through layers of soil and stone. He sensed a path heading southwest before breaking to the surface, and took it, skating along as quick as a beam of light.
He materialized a moment later on the surface and looked about to get his bearings. He knew the place, perhaps a dozen miles from the Hollow.
Not enough, he thought. Need to go deeper.
Again he slipped beneath the surface, this time dropping so far down that the call of the Core became more than just a seductive song. It filled his senses, bright and beautiful, pulling at him like flame drew a moth. A tendril of his being began to drift that way, wanting just a taste of its infinite power. It would be so simple to just …