The Shinzawai manor was huge. It was easily the biggest single building —short of temples and palaces—that Pug had seen. It sat atop a hill, commanding a view of the countryside for miles. The house was square, like the one in Jamar, but several times the size. The town house could easily have fit inside this one’s central garden. Behind it were the outbuildings, cookhouse, and slave quarters.
Pug craned his neck to take in the garden, for they were walking quickly through, and there was little time to absorb all of it. The hadonra, Septiem, scolded him. “Don’t tarry.”
Pug quickened his step and fell in beside Laurie. Still, on a brief viewing, the garden was impressive. Several shade trees had been planted beside three pools that sat in the midst of miniature trees and flowering plants. Stone benches had been placed for contemplative rest, and paths of fine pebble gravel wandered throughout. Around this tiny park the building rose, three stories tall. The top two stones had balconies, and several staircases rose to connect them. Servants could be seen hurrying along the upper levels, but there appeared to be no one else in the garden, or at least that portion they had crossed.
They reached a sliding door, and Septiem turned to face them. In stern tones he said, “You two barbarians will watch your manners before the lords of this house, or by the gods, I’ll have every inch of skin off your backs. Now make sure you do all that I’ve told you, or you’ll wish that Master Hokanu had left you to rot in the swamps.”
He slid the door to one side and announced the slaves. The command for them to enter was given, and Septiem shooed them inside.
They found themselves in a colorfully lit room, the light coming through the large translucent door covered with a painting. On the walls hung carvings, tapestries, and paintings, all done in fine style, small and delicate. The floor was covered, in Tsurani fashion, with a thick pile of cushions. Upon a large cushion Kamatsu, Lord of the Shinzawai, sat; across from him were his two sons. All were dressed in the short robes of expensive fabric and cut they used when off duty. Pug and Laurie stood with their eyes downcast until they were spoken to.
Hokanu spoke first. “The blond giant is called Loh-’re, and the more normal-sized one is Poog.”
Laurie started to open his mouth, but a quick elbow from Pug silenced him before he could speak.
The older son noticed the exchange, and said, “You would speak?”
Laurie looked up, then quickly down again. The instructions had been clear: not to speak until commanded to Laurie wasn’t sure the question was a command.
The lord of the house said, “Speak.”
Laurie looked at Kasumi. “I am Laurie, master. Lor-ee. And my friend is Pug, not Poog.”
Hokanu looked taken aback at being corrected, but the older brother nodded and pronounced the names several times over, until he spoke them correctly. He then said, “Have you ridden horses?”
Both slaves nodded. Kasumi said, “Good. Then you can show me the best way.”
Pug’s gaze wandered as much as was possible with his head down, but something caught his eye. Next to the Lord of the Shinzawai sat a game board and what looked like familiar figures. Kamatsu noticed and said, “You know this game?” He reached over and brought the board forward, so that it lay before him.
Pug said, “Master, I know the game. We call it chess.”
Hokanu looked at his brother, who leaned forward “As several have said, Father, there has been contact with the barbarians before.”
His father waved away the comment. “It is a theory.” To Pug he said, “Sit here and show me how the pieces move.”
Pug sat and tried to remember what Kulgan had taught him. He had been an indifferent student of the game, but knew a few basic openings. He moved a pawn forward and said, “This piece may move forward only one space, except when it is first moved, master. Then it may move two.” The lord of the house nodded, motioning that he should continue. “This piece is a knight and moves like so,” said Pug.
After he had demonstrated the moves of the various pieces, the Lord of the Shinzawai said, “We call this game shah. The pieces are called by different names, but it is the same. Come, we will play.”
Kamatsu gave the white pieces to Pug. He opened with a conventional king’s pawn move, and Kamatsu countered. Pug played badly and was quickly beaten. The others watched the entire game without a sound. When it was over, the lord said, “Do you play well, among your people?”
“No, master. I play poorly.”
He smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the edges. “Then I would guess that your people are not as barbarous as is commonly held. We will play again soon.”
He nodded to his older son, and Kasumi rose. Bowing to his father, he said to Pug and Laurie, “Come.”
They bowed to the lord of the house and followed Kasumi out of the room. He led them through the house, to a smaller room with sleeping pallets and cushions. “You will sleep here. My room is next door. I would have you at hand at all times.”
Laurie spoke up boldly. “What does the master want of us?”
Kasumi regarded him for a moment. “You barbarians will never make good slaves. You forget your place too often.”
Laurie started to stammer an apology but was cut off. “It is of little matter. You are to teach me things, Laurie. You will teach me to ride, and how to speak your language. Both of you. I would learn what those.”
—he paused, then made a flat, nasal wa-wa-wa sound—”noises mean when you speak to each other.”
Further conversation was cut off by the sound of a single chime that reverberated throughout the house. Kasumi said, “A Great One comes. Stay in your rooms. I must go to welcome him with my father.” He hurried off, leaving the two Midkemians to sit in their new quarters wondering at this newest twist in their lives.
Twice during the following two days, Pug and Laurie glimpsed the Shinzawai’s important visitor. He was much like the Shinzawai lord in appearance, but thinner, and he wore the black robe of a Tsurani Great One. Pug asked a few questions of the house staff and gained a little information. Pug and Laurie had seen nothing that compared with the awe in which the Great Ones were held by the Tsurani. They seemed a power apart, and with what little understanding of Tsurani social reality Pug had, he couldn’t exactly comprehend how they fit into the scheme of things. At first he had thought they were under some social stigma, for all he was ever told was that the Great Ones were “outside the law.” He then was made to understand, by an exasperated Tsurani slave who couldn’t believe Pug’s ignorance of important matters, that the Great Ones had little or no social constraints in exchange for some nameless service to the Empire.
Pug had made a discovery during this time that lightened the alien feeling of his captivity somewhat. Behind the needra pens he had found a kennel full of yapping, tail-wagging dogs. They were the only Midkemian-like animals he had seen on Kelewan, and he felt an unexplained joy at their presence. He had rushed back to their room to fetch Laurie and had brought him to the kennel. Now they sat in one of the runs, amid a group of playful canines.
Laurie laughed at their boisterous play. They were unlike the Duke’s hunting hounds, being longer of leg, and more gaunt. Their ears were pointed, and perked at every sound.
“I’ve seen their like before, in Gulbi. It’s a town in the Great Northern Trade Route of Kesh. They are called greyhounds and are used to run down the fast cats and antelope of the grasslands near the Valley of the Sun.”
The kennel master, a thin, droopy-eyelidded slave named Rachmad, came over and watched them suspiciously “What are you doing here?”
Laurie regarded the dour man and playfully pulled the muzzle of a rambunctious puppy. “We haven’t seen dogs since we left our homeland, Rachmad. Our master is busy with the Great One, so we thought we would visit your fine kennel.”
At mention of his “fine kennel” the gloomy countenance brightened considerably. “I try to keep the dogs healthy We must keep them locked up, for they try to harry the cho-
ja, who like them not at all.” For a moment Pug thought perhaps they had been taken from Midkemia as the horse had been. When he asked where they had come from, Rachmad looked at him as if he were crazy. “You speak like you have been too long in the sun. There have always been dogs.” With that final pronouncement on the matter, he judged the conversation closed and left.
Later that night, Pug awoke to find Laurie entering their room “Where have you been?”
“Shh! You want to wake the whole household? Go back to sleep.”
“Where did you go?” Pug asked in hushed tones.
Laurie could be seen grinning in the dim light “I paid a visit to a certain cook’s assistant, for . . . a chat.”
“Oh. Almorella?”
“Yes,” came the cheerful reply “She’s quite a girl.” The young slave who served in the kitchen had been making big eyes at Laurie ever since the caravan had arrived four days ago.
After a moment of silence, Laurie said, “You should cultivate a few friends yourself. Gives a whole new look to things.”
“I’ll bet,” Pug said, disapproval mixed with more than a little envy. Almorella was a bright and cheerful girl, near Pug’s age, with merry dark eyes.
“That little Katala, now. She has her eye on you, I’m thinking.”
Cheeks burning, Pug threw a cushion at his friend. “Oh, shut up and go to sleep.”
Laurie stifled a laugh. He retired to his pallet and left Pug alone in thought.
There was the faint promise of rain on the wind, and Pug welcomed the coolness he felt in its touch. Laurie was sitting astride Kasumi’s horse, and the young officer stood by and watched. Laurie had directed Tsurani craftsmen as they fashioned a saddle and bridle for the mount and was now demonstrating their use.
“This horse is combat trained,” Laurie shouted. “He can be neck reined”—he demonstrated by laying the reins on one side of the horse’s neck, then the other—”or he can be turned by using your legs.” He raised his hands and showed the older son of the house how this was done.
For three weeks they had been instructing the young noble in riding, and he had shown natural ability. Laurie jumped from the horse, and Kasumi took his place. The Tsurani rode roughly at first, the saddle feeling strange under him. As he bounced by, Pug called out, “Master, grip him firmly with your lower leg!” The horse sensed the pressure and picked up a quick trot. Rather than be troubled by the increase in speed, Kasumi looked enraptured. “Keep your heels down!” shouted Pug. Then, without instructions from either slave, Kasumi kicked the horse hard in the sides and had the animal running over the fields.
Laurie watched him vanish across the meadow and said, “He’s either a natural horseman or he’s going to kill himself.”
Pug nodded. “I think he’s got the knack. He’s certainly not lacking courage.”
Laurie pulled up a long stem of grass from the ground and put it between his teeth. He hunkered down and scratched the ear of a bitch who lay at his feet, as much to distract the dog from running after the horse as to play with her. She rolled over on her back and playfully chewed his hand.
Laurie turned his attention to Pug. “I wonder what game our young friend is playing at.”
Pug shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“Remember when we first arrived? I heard Kasumi was about to head out with his cho-ja companions. Well, those three cho-ja soldiers left this morning—which is why Bethel here is out of her pen—and I heard some gossip that the orders of the older son of the Shinzawai were suddenly changed. Put that together with these riding and language lessons and what do you have?”
Pug stretched. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either.” Laurie sounded disgusted “But these matters are of high import.” He looked across the plain and said lightly, “All I ever wanted to do was to travel and tell my stories, sing my songs, and someday find a widow who owned an inn.”
Pug laughed. “I think you would find tavern keeping dull business after all this fine adventure.”
“Some fine adventuring. I’m riding along with a bunch of provincial militia and run right smack into the entire Tsurani army. Since then I’ve been beaten several times, spent over four months mucking about in the swamps, walked over half this world—”
“Ridden in a wagon, as I remember.”
“Well, traveled over half this world, and now I’m giving riding lessons to Kasumi Shinzawai, older son of a lord of Tsuranuanm Not the stuff great ballads are made of.”
Pug smiled ruefully “You could have been four years in the swamps. Consider yourself lucky. At least you can count on being here tomorrow. At least as long as Septiem doesn’t catch you creeping around the kitchen late at night.”
Laurie studied Pug closely “I know you’re joking. About Septiem, I mean. It has occurred to me several times to ask you, Pug. Why do you never speak of your life before you were captured?”
Pug looked away absently “I guess it’s a habit I picked up in the swamp camp. It doesn’t pay to remind yourself of what you used to be. I’ve seen brave men die because they couldn’t forget they were born free.”
Laurie pulled at the dog’s ear “But things are different here.”
“Are they? Remember what you said back in Jamar about a man wanting something from you. I think the more comfortable you become here, the easier it is for them to get whatever it is they want from you. This Shinzawai lord is no one’s fool.” Seemingly shifting topics, he said, “Is it better to train a dog or horse with a whip or with kindness?”
Laurie looked up. “What? Why, with kindness, but you have to use discipline also.”
Pug nodded. “We are being shown the same consideration as Bethel and her kind, I think. But we still are slaves. Never forget that.”
Laurie looked out over the field for a long time and said nothing.
The pair were rousted from their thoughts by the shouts of the older son of the house as he rode back into view. He pulled the horse up before them and jumped down. “He flies,” he said, in his broken King’s Tongue. Kasumi was an apt student and was picking up the language quickly. He supplemented his language lessons with a constant stream of questions about the lands and people of Midkemia. There was not a single aspect of life in the Kingdom that he seemed uninterested in. He had asked for examples of the most mundane things, such as the manner in which one bargains with tradespeople, and the proper forms of address when speaking to people of different ranks.
Kasumi led the horse back to the shed that had been built for him, and Pug watched for any sign of footsoreness. They had fashioned shoes for him from wood treated with resin, by trial and error, but these seemed to be holding up well enough. As he walked, Kasumi said, “I have been thinking about a thing. I don’t understand how your King rules, with all you have said about this Congress of Lords. Please explain this thing.”
Laurie looked at Pug with an eyebrow raised. While no more an authority on Kingdom politics than Laurie, he seemed better able to explain what he knew. Pug said, “The congress elects the King, though it is mostly a matter of form.”
“Form?”
“A tradition. The heir to the throne is always elected, except when there is no clear successor. It is considered the best way to stem civil war, for the ruling of the congress is final.” He explained how the Prince of Krondor had deferred to his nephew, and how the congress had acquiesced to his wishes “How is it with the Empire?”
Kasumi thought, then said, “Perhaps not so different. Each emperor is the elect of the gods, but from what you have told me he is unlike your King. He rules in the Holy City, but his leadership is spiritual. He protects us from the wrath of the gods.”
Laurie asked, “Who then rules?”
They reached the shed, and Kasumi took the saddle and bridle off the horse and began rubbing him down. “Here it is different from your land.” He seemed to have difficulty with the language and shifted into Tsurarri. “A Ruling Lord of a family is the absolute authorit
y upon his estate. Each family belongs to a clan, and the most influential lord in the clan is Warchief. Within that clan, each other lord of a family holds certain powers depending upon influence. The Shinzawai belong to the Kanazawai Clan. We are the second most powerful family in that clan next to the Keda. My father in his youth was commander of the clan armies, a Warchief, what you would call a general. The position of families shifts from generation to generation, so that it is unlikely I will reach so exalted a position.
“The leading lords of each clan sit in the High Council. They advise the Warlord. He rules in the name of the Emperor, though the Emperor could overrule him.”
“Does the Emperor in fact ever overrule the Warlord?” asked Laurie.
“Never.”
“How is the Warlord chosen?” asked Pug.
“It is difficult to explain. When the old Warlord dies, the clans meet. It is a large gathering of lords, for not only the council comes, but also the heads of every family. They meet and plot, and sometimes blood feuds develop, but in the end a new Warlord is elected.”
Pug brushed back the hair from his eyes. “Then what is to keep the Warlord’s clan from claiming the office, if they are the most powerful?”
Kasumi looked troubled. “It is not an easy thing to explain. Perhaps you would have to be Tsurani to understand. There are laws, but more important, there are customs. No matter how powerful a clan becomes, or a family within it, only the lord of one of five families may be elected Warlord. They are the Keda, Tonmargu, Minwanabi, Oaxatucan, and the Xacatecas. So there are only five lords who may be considered. This Warlord is an Oaxatucan, so the light of the Kanazawai clan burns dimly. His clan, the Omechan, is in ascension now. Only the Minwanabi rival them, and for the present they are allied in the war effort. That is the way of it.”
Laurie shook his head “This family and clan business makes our own politics seem simple.”
Kasumi laughed. “That is not politics. Politics is the province of the parties.”