Thick as Thieves

  Narrow is the bridge between the lands of grain

  and the lands of sand

  the Isthmus evil stalked it

  Terrifying Unse-Sek son of the Queen of the Night

  tower tall

  sword clawed

  teeth blood red needle sharp

  bat head and great bat wings

  barbed at their joints

  Unse-Sek stalked the Isthmus in the night

  eyes gleaming

  gleaming like the copper domes

  of Ianna-Ir in the sunlight

  In the dark gleamed Unse-Sek’s eyes

  as he hunted men

  waited until they slept

  lurked and leapt

  Then he devoured them greedy Unse-Sek

  slurped their marrow

  left their bones and gobbets of their flesh

  scattered on the land

  for their friends to find and grieve over

  for their friends to weep over

  So was the prince of Hylas lost

  So did his father and mother grieve

  and cry out for deliverance from

  the demon saying who will slay the savage Unse-Sek

  and make his name greatest

  in the lands of grain and the lands of sand?

  Glorified before the gods and potent will be his name

  if he slays the savage Unse-Sek!

  Came the news to Noble Immakuk and Brave Ennikar

  Wise Immakuk Strong Ennikar

  answered the grieving friends of the prince

  the grieving mother grieving father

  swore death to Unse-Sek

  They went out across the Isthmus

  wandered there stalking

  the stalker

  Lay in wait as he lay in wait

  lurked as the demon lurked until he pounced

  Foolish Unse-Sek seizing Ennikar

  every hand with three talons

  every talon a sword he seized Ennikar

  was stung

  stung by Immakuk’s blade

  Snapped with his needle teeth at Immakuk

  and missed

  Strong Ennikar broke free

  swung his sword and lopped Unse-Sek’s sword claws

  lopped one hand and its sword claws

  Howling for his mother Unse-Sek fled

  chased

  by Immakuk

  and by Ennikar

  He flew they followed

  He turned and fought and was stung

  fought for days

  First Immakuk

  Then Ennikar

  drove the monster

  wearied him until Unse-Sek turned

  seized Immakuk in his teeth

  his bloodred teeth knife sharp

  shook him as a cat shakes

  a mouse a mouse was Immakuk

  Unse-Sek howled with victory snapped again

  savage Unse-Sek seized again with sword claws

  battered Immakuk with his wings

  His barbed wings

  pierced Immakuk’s eye with his claws

  opened his eye bled out its life

  dimmed its light forever

  Immakuk raged

  could not escape Unse-Sek

  Ennikar Strong Ennikar rescued Immakuk

  lopped the claws lopped the hand a second time

  cut off Unse-Sek’s hand a second time

  freed Immakuk

  sliced Unse-Sek’s bat wings

  so he could fly no more

  lopped off his sword claws

  Unse-Sek who could not fly could not crawl

  he cried out for his mother

  the Queen of the Night

  cried out

  died

  Brave Immakuk and Noble Ennikar took his head

  brought it to Hylas

  hung it there above the gate

  eyes still gleaming

  When I was done, the Attolian thanked me.

  “Very impressive, that Ennikar,” he said.

  “So, so, so,” I said, and he smiled at the Attolian slang.

  “Is he always rescuing Immakuk?” he asked.

  He was probably remembering Ennikar pulling Immakuk into Anet’s Chariot at the end of the play in Ianna-Ir.

  “Not at all,” I said. “They save each other. And when the Queen of the Night sends Death to take Ennikar to the underworld, it’s Immakuk who rescues him.”

  “I’d like to hear that one next time,” he said. Then he yawned, stretched himself out on the hard ground, and slept. I watched him for a while, and he never moved. His breathing never changed—deep and even and completely relaxed. I looked out at the wide world around us and thought about the Namreen on our trail, and the ordinary robbers who might be at hand, about lions and starvation and death from thirst if we didn’t find water away from the trade routes—which, after all, are trade routes for a good reason. Then I lay down and tried to sleep like the Attolian.

  The rainy season was well behind us, but there was still water cached in rocky depressions to supplement what we carried, and the sun was not too hot. As we moved away from the hills, I saw that there were indeed signs of life on the rolling terrain—thin grass and the occasional scraggly plant that fed the caggi. Without a trail to follow, we moved slowly. If the Attolian was impatient, it still didn’t show.

  I hated caggi. I hadn’t really liked it the first time the Attolian had offered me a bite on the end of his knife. Within a few days I was so sick of it I would have almost preferred to starve. I didn’t like the taste, but what I hated more was the sad look of their small bodies when the Attolian carried them back to camp and skinned them. He often killed three or four of the creatures at a time. Stripped of their skin, they looked distressingly like little men lying in a row waiting to be cooked.

  “You are Unse-Sek to the rodents,” I said, watching him work.

  He bared his teeth and raised his hands like claws. “Nonsense,” he said. “I am a much tidier eater.” It was true. We picked those bones clean and buried them when we were through. Then the Attolian carefully scattered the ashes of the fire.

  “We’ll have to turn west and try now for a more traveled route,” he said. We hadn’t seen any water for two days and the Namreen’s waterskins were almost dry. A little later the Attolian left me in the shade of a gully while he climbed up a nearby hill looking for a sign of a road or any man-made thing.

  “Nothing,” he said when he came back. “We’ll rest here, and when it’s cooler, we’ll start west. Eventually we must hit the route between Perf and Traba and there will be water somewhere along there. If I give you the last of the water, will you tell me about Immakuk and Ennikar and the Queen of the Night?”

  It was an obvious ruse to give me the last of the water, and I gratefully accepted it.

  “So, the Queen of the Night, angry that her son had been killed, sent Death, her brother, after Ennikar. Death wrapped Ennikar in his wings and carried him away to the underworld.”

  Brave Ennikar Strong Ennikar

  taken like any man by Death

  to the gray lands

  through the gates of Kununigadak which none may pass

  twice

  none leave who have entered by way of them

  on the road from which there is no way back

  to the land wherein the dwellers are bereft of light

  where dust is their fare dust and clay is their food and

  their drink

  the gray lands

  Grieving Immakuk lost his friend

  a loss more powerful than a great river

  bowled him over

  sharper than a sword

  cut him through

  Loss led Immakuk from his journey home

  Death stalked the land as Unse-Sek had stalked

  had carried away his friend Ennikar

  left Immakuk nothing

  Why do men die why does death take them

  Immakuk asked

  asked Nuri
who had no answer

  asked Shesmegah goddess of mercy

  asked Anet to bring his friend back

  The goddess of the moon heard his cries

  took pity on Immakuk

  took pity on him and

  sent him to the stepwell of Ne Malia

  lit his path there

  to the underworld

  Step by step Immakuk descended

  to the water of Ne Malia followed the moonlight

  below the water

  into dark lit by moonlight descended

  to the gray lands and the empty banks

  before the eternal river

  that has no beginning and no end

  He walked the banks of that river

  who knows how long

  who can know how long

  until he met a ferryman

  Immakuk asked and the ferryman answered

  two coins to cross the eternal river

  Immakuk asked and the ferryman answered

  all may enter none may leave but those unseen

  by Kununigadak the Devourer

  Only the anointed return from the gray lands

  anointed with the oil from the land of the gods

  only the anointed are unseen by Kununigadak

  as they pass through the gates

  to return to the bright lands all others remain forever

  within the gates in the gray lands

  bereft of light where clay is the food and

  dust their drink

  Two coins to cross the eternal river and Immakuk had none

  tricked the ferryman

  promised to pay and cheated him

  rode across the wide river jumped to the shore

  The ferryman said Immakuk two coins you owe me

  No said Immakuk two coins I promised for a trip

  across the river

  But here I jumped You did not bring me across

  Immakuk turned his back on the ferryman

  walked who knows how long

  who can know how long

  to the gates of Death’s kingdom

  gates guarded by Kununigadak

  who allows any who choose to enter

  none to leave

  Immakuk passed through the gates

  sought Ennikar

  sought his friend

  asked the gray people of the gray lands

  for Ennikar

  for the ointment of the gods

  Found the palace of Death

  brother to the Queen of the Night

  Found the bottle that held the oil

  that makes man immortal

  that makes him invisible to Kununigadak

  oil from the land of the gods

  Death would not give up the bottle

  would not let Immakuk

  find its secret and steal it away

  wanted all to come to the gated lands

  All come None leave

  wanted to rule over all

  Immakuk was canny

  coaxed Death to cajole his sister

  inveigle induce convince persuade his sister

  to give up Ennikar

  The Queen of the Night said

  where is my son where is the scion to my kindred

  where is Unse-Sek

  he is destroyed his head a decoration

  She said she would not give up Ennikar

  until she had a son to beautify her house

  set up stelae to her spirits kindred to her kindred

  a scion to free her spirit

  to guard her footsteps

  to carry her when she had drunk

  to smother the life of her detractors

  Ennikar gave her a son

  and she gave up Ennikar

  Immakuk and Ennikar

  they anointed each another

  with the oil of the gods

  made only for the gods

  “Wait,” the Attolian interrupted. “How did they get the oil?”

  “No one knows,” I said. I explained that the tablet in the temple of Anet was broken and there were no copies of it. No one was sure how Immakuk got the bottle of oil from Death, what bargain he made. “When people tell the story or they put on the play of Immakuk and the gray lands, they make up different ways Immakuk might have tricked Death or different promises he might have made. Or they skip that part.”

  I started again.

  They anointed each other

  knew the ferryman would not take them across the river

  knew they would swim

  knew the waters of the eternal river would wash the oil

  away

  Brought the bottle to anoint themselves

  and to anoint themselves again

  anoint themselves and others in the world

  make all invisible to the Devourer

  So that none must go to the gated lands without leaving

  all shall come and go as they choose

  said Immakuk

  Before they could pass the gates

  the ferryman spoke to the gray people

  told them Immakuk had that bottle

  that contained the oil of immortality

  Kununigadak was blind could not see them

  only Kununigadak could not see

  the gray people not so blind

  They pursued the heroes

  faster went Immakuk

  the gray people followed

  grappled trapped seized

  Ennikar Strong Ennikar

  Trapped him the gray people

  as the great are brought down by the weak

  when they are many

  As the hawk is mobbed by the roller birds

  as the great sea eagle is brought down by gulls

  Immakuk saw Strong Ennikar held

  slowed his steps

  noble Immakuk turned back

  Give us the bottle of oil said the gray people in the

  wind-filled whispers

  the bottle give it give it to us and we will let you leave

  the gated lands

  all will leave the gated lands

  never to return

  Immakuk remembered his promise to Death

  threw the bottle far away

  deep into the gated lands

  As the gray people weakened their hold

  seized Ennikar and drew him through the gates

  as they receded wailing

  seeking the bottle lost that made a

  man invisible to the Devourer

  Wailed as the Queen of the Night

  affrighted the gray people

  seized with her claws

  lifted the bottle

  flew back to the palace

  of Death her brother

  Together Immakuk and Ennikar passed through the

  gates

  as no man has before or since

  Immakuk and Ennikar

  swam the eternal river

  came into our world together

  climbed the stepwell of Ne Malia

  Because Immakuk had saved his friend but lost the

  bottle of oil

  no man has escaped Death since

  “That Ennikar,” said the Attolian. “Always with a maid.”

  “Sometimes it’s Immakuk who gives the Queen of the Night a child. It depends on the tablet and who is translating it.”

  “Translating it from the old language?”

  “Yes, from old Ensur, from before the Mede, then into Attolian.”

  “Who translated what you have told me, then?”

  I rocked a little, embarrassed and proud at the same time. “It’s my translation.”

  His eyebrows went up. “All the translations—yours?”

  I nodded again. I tried on a few feelings of superiority, telling myself that the Attolian was an uneducated audience who couldn’t really appreciate the work involved, but I couldn’t push that to a sticking point. I fell back on the embarrassment and pride. “I’m glad you like it,” I said. r />
  “Are you translating it just now, as you tell it?”

  “No, I translated it from the Ensur into the Mede a long time ago. I was in Attolia when I translated it into your language. I used to sit sometimes in the kitchens, and the workers there liked to ask me about where I came from. Once when they were telling stories of the Attolian afterlife, they asked me if there were stories of the Mede afterlife. One of them kept asking until I translated Ennikar and Immakuk and the Queen of the Night for him. I liked doing it, so I kept at it.”

  The Attolian poked at the remains of the caggi in front of him. “In our stories of the underworld, it’s important not to eat anything, or you will be trapped there forever.”

  “You’d be doomed,” I said.

  “I would. I think I’d trade immortality right now for a jug of wine and a plate full of nutcakes.”

  I remembered those cakes. I had been wrong to say that the only beautiful thing in Attolia was the queen. She was as beautiful as the Queen of the Night, but the Attolian nutcakes, with their tops decorated in loops and swirls of sticky honey, were even more beautiful—and they wouldn’t kill you.

  I sighed. “I’d trade the plate of nutcakes for a bath,” I said. He nodded. We’d washed as well as we could in the springwater we’d found, but I think our pursuers, if they were out there in the wasteland, could have found us by smell and without needing a dog.

  “When we get to Traba, if we transform that chain into coin, the first thing we will do is have a wash and a shave,” the Attolian promised. “May you dream of it tonight,” he said, and I lay down hoping for just that but instead was haunted through the night by visions of the Namreen.

  I was still asleep in the morning when the Attolian sat up suddenly, waking me. Before I could speak, he held up a hand. There was a sound. Very faint. A clinking noise, a sort of tapping, not the jingle of a harness, but almost musical in the same way. I couldn’t identify it, but it was tantalizingly familiar.

  The Attolian scrambled to his feet, pulling the strap of a waterskin over his shoulder. He leaned down briefly to ask, “Can you whistle?”

  I said yes, not sure why he wanted to know.

  “If I cannot find you again, I will whistle. You should whistle back. Two notes, one higher, then one lower. I will find you more easily than if you shout, and we won’t announce ourselves quite so obviously to anybody else nearby.” Then he scrambled out of the gully and was gone.

  It was several hours before he came back. As time passed, I listened more and more intently for a whistle, wondering if I’d missed one while dozing or distracted by my thoughts. I considered how easy it would be for the Attolian to just go home to his king, leaving me—slow, annoying, and insufficiently appreciative of his caggi dinners—behind in the wilderness. I concentrated on his earlier refusal to leave my dead body by the side of the road to Perf and strained my ears for a sound floating through the air.