Captain Anji was distracted, looking toward the main fire, but he turned back now. “Yes, we’ll teach you. Come. Mai will be wondering what has happened.” He gave both bow and lantern to Tuvi and walked away.
Amazingly, Mai was already sitting out by the fire on the divan, hands clasped over the knife in her lap. Shai was taken aback to see spots of color high in her cheeks. Priya stood behind her, touching her mistress on the shoulder as if in warning as the two men approached out of the darkness.
“I have something to say,” said Mai in a cool voice. Only the tension in her hands betrayed her agitation. “What is the custom of your people, Captain? Am I meant to kill myself with this knife if bandits overtake our party and attempt to rape me?”
Anji raised both eyebrows, pausing a body’s length from the divan. His hands betrayed nothing; they hung loose at his thighs. “No. I gave you the knife so you could kill any man who attacked you. In time you will learn to shoot a bow as well, I hope, if you feel you are willing to try. No need to hide when you can kill your enemies instead.”
She blinked three times, as much surprise as she ever commonly revealed. “Do Qin women kill their enemies?”
“When they can.”
“What if they can’t? What if you’d been killed and those bandits had overrun the camp? Should I kill myself then?”
“Why? A woman as beautiful as you wouldn’t be killed. She’d be taken prisoner and hauled off to become concubine of their prince.”
“Even if he is a demon?” asked Shai boldly.
“Especially if he is a demon. Women have survived rape before and gone on to prosper, or even to regain their freedom.”
“But the shame . . .” said Shai.
Mai waited for Anji to speak.
He shrugged, as Qin often did. “What shame is it to be taken against your will when you have no power? Those who were meant to protect you are shamed, certainly. You survive if you can, and pray for a merciful death if life and freedom are denied you.”
“There is shame!” Mai rose and tossed the knife at Shai’s feet. “There’s shame on the head of the man who attacks a helpless woman. During the fighting I heard noises from the walls next door to the place I was hiding—just there!” She pointed to the dark slope of a wall beyond the irregular outline of the ruined house just behind them. In the silence that followed, with Mai’s arm outstretched and her sleeve swept gracefully toward the ground, they all heard huffing and grunting.
“I looked! And there was one of the Qin soldiers raping Cornflower! Right in the middle of the battle, when he should have been fighting. Will there be any punishment for him? Or will you allow your slave to be abused, Shai?”
Anji looked at Shai. “Uncle Shai?”
Shai had a blinding insight: Anji already knew about the arrangement. Either Mountain had consulted him or the captain had discovered it on his own. But he gave no sign in any wise of his opinion of the matter. No use trying to hide it.
“It wasn’t rape, Mai, although I admit I’m surprised Mountain started so quickly and in the middle of the skirmish! It was a business arrangement. There’s only the two women with the troop. I agreed to let Mountain hire her out—no more than five men a night—for a little extra money. It’s always wise to keep some money in reserve. I don’t want her for myself anyway. I didn’t ask for her to come along. Father Mei just gave her to me to be rid of her. Your mother’s been wanting her out of the compound ever since she came to us.”
She lowered her arm, still looking toward the shadows. The grunting quickened, then spilled over into a drawn-out gasp and sigh. Mai’s expression did not change, but her hands were fists.
“What? Isn’t it my turn next?” a man’s voice asked. “Aren’t you done yet? How long does it take you, Chaji?”
Mai still would not look at either man. “Do you think she doesn’t cry herself to sleep every night?”
The words were like kicks, slamming into his chest. “How would you know?” Shai demanded. He was hot everywhere, but not from lust.
Now she did turn to look at him, and he wished she hadn’t. Never in his life had he seen such a glare from that normally placid and sweet face. “Blind men don’t have to see what they wish to ignore! I thought you were better than Father Mei and the other uncles, but now I see you are not. Just because you have power over someone doesn’t mean you have to use it. I’m ashamed of you!” She spat toward Shai, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and with a swirl of silk ran to the palanquin and crawled inside. The curtain slithered down behind her. Priya stood in shocked silence behind the divan.
Shai picked up the knife. The jeweled hilt seemed to burn his fingers. Maybe he should just drive it into his heart and be done with this misery at once. Mai had never spoken like that in her entire life. Never. Never. Never.
“Some miasma from the demons must have gotten into her,” he said, breathless as he hadn’t been with arrow fire raining over him. “That’s not Mai!”
Anji laughed. “Have you and your family been so blind all these years that you don’t know what she is?” He raised his voice. “Mai! Come back.”
“About time, Chaji!” said the man’s voice. “How is she?”
“A little dry. But her peaches are just right—not too soft, not too firm. Ummm!”
The curtain parted. Mai walked back with stately grace, head high and hands hidden in her sleeves. Her expression was as smooth as an untouched pool. Was this the real Mai, so calm and composed? Who was that other person who had spoken through her lips?
She sank to the ground and knelt submissively before Captain Anji, hands on knees, head bent. She said nothing.
Anji crossed her arms and studied her. “I don’t talk to women who are on their knees before me. Stand, or sit, but do not act as a slave must. You are my wife.”
She rose. Her chin trembled, then stilled. A single tear slipped from an eye. “Forgive me if my behavior has shamed you.”
“It has not dishonored me, nor has it dishonored you. Have you other things you wish to say?”
She was brave enough to meet his gaze. “Will you put a stop to it?”
“No. Uncle Shai is my companion but not under my command. The slave’s life belongs to him.”
“What about your men? Doesn’t it shame them?”
“My men visit brothels. I see no difference.”
“I’ll buy her from Shai.”
“You will not because I won’t have her in my household. There is no argument on this point.”
The look she cast at Shai was meant to murder.
What right had she to stand as judge over him?
“I never knew you were so troublesome, Mai! Now you’ve shamed me with your meddling.” The rush carried him on as the words spilled out. “Very well, then. I’ll tell Mountain to stop all the arrangements. She can do something to earn her keep, groom horses or dig trenches. No man will touch her again. Is that good enough?”
The hot, provocative words poured out of him because he hadn’t control enough to keep them inside. His big brother Hari used to talk like this. That’s what had gotten him led off in chains with the other recruits, so they were called, to fight for the Qin. Gone forever. Missing, but never forgotten.
Shai had been about thirteen that day, now six years past. He’d sworn to himself never to talk as much as his bold, bright, brilliant, beautiful, and much admired big brother Hari did. Talking got you noticed. Talking made people angry, it trapped them. And it made people cry, the ones who got left behind.
Now he couldn’t stop himself.
“But if there are any problems, we don’t have many resources to fall back on. You’re not thinking about me, are you? I’ve got a longer road to travel than you do. You have a husband. You’re protected. You’ve got everything you need. I’ll have to leave this company, and then every zastra will count. I don’t even know what land I’m going to. I could end up anywhere, dead by bandits, eaten by demons, sucked dry! Will you care then if I’m
the one weeping at night?” Panting, he battled himself to a stop, shamed and embarrassed and still burning so hot.
“I’m sorry to have shamed you, Shai,” she said, and because it was Mai saying it, he knew it was sincere. It sounded so. She looked sorry. “I’m sorry Father Mei and Grandmother never liked you, too, because it made you into a turtle, always hiding. I’m sorry I said you were just like the uncles, because you aren’t. Just look, Shai. I know you see what others can’t. Just look.”
“I will go now,” said Shai, sweating, furious, and his fingers in claws that he could not get to uncurl. The air made him dizzy; his head reeled. I know you see what others can’t. In Kartu Town, they burned as witches any person who could see ghosts. Is that what she meant? Was she threatening him?
Captain Anji raised a hand to show he would make no objection to Shai’s departure. His gaze seemed sympathetic, but who could tell? People were turning out so different than they first appeared.
Shai stalked away to find Mountain, who was standing beside a small fire next to the ruined house out of which a second man’s noisy attentions serenaded them. This one hummed instead of grunted, a melody of rising arousal: Hmm. Heh. Hoo. Heh. Hmm. Mountain had meat on a stick, roasting it to feed the three men waiting their turn.
“That’s the end of it, Mountain. No more hiring out Cornflower.”
“But Master Shai! These men have already paid handsomely.” He shook a pouch; it jingled merrily. Leaning closer, he whispered, “It wouldn’t do to anger them.”
Hmm. Hmm! Hoo! Heh! Heh! Hhhhh!
“Enough! No more of this, Mountain. She’ll have to earn her keep some other way, but there’s to be no more hiring her out. Do you understand?”
Mountain stared at him as if he had turned into a demon. He dropped to one knee and lowered his gaze to stare at Shai’s feet. “No need to shout to make this one’s ears burn, Master. I hear what you have said. I can see you have changed your mind. There will be no more of these arrangements.”
“No more!”
It was dark, so he went to his tent and lay down on the blankets Mountain had unrolled. The temperature at night was chilly, but he wasn’t cold. Nor could he sleep. As he lay there, his legs began to stiffen up, his thighs felt as though red-hot pokers were pressing in and out to torment him; his buttocks ached and his back was so sore it hurt to shift. It was no better here than it had been in Kartu Town! With a grimace, he got to his knees and crawled to the entrance, pushing aside the flap. The tent opened to the west. It was late. The camp was quiet, bathed by the last light of half moon, which almost touched the western horizon. Did the demons rope the moon every night, as the old stories claimed, and let it escape every morning?
Where were they going, truly? Would Captain Anji deal fairly with them? Or would he rob Shai of his money and abandon Mai in the wilderness?
Will I ever find Hari’s remains? And if I do, will I have to go back?
He heard a sound like the tickle of mice scrabbling on dirt. He leaned farther out of the tent. Cornflower had curled up to sleep on the dirt against one side of his tent, huddled there as though the canvas might give her shelter. She had pillowed her head on one arm, and her face happened to be turned toward him. Her eyes were shut. The moonlight spilled across her face, washing it so pale that he knew Captain Anji was right. She was demon’s get, no matter what the holy man had said. Obviously the holy man had been mistaken or in the pay of the merchant trying to sell her. No real person had hair that pale gold color, or eyes that blue.
At first he thought she was sleeping because she lay so quietly, but the night-veiled camp was utterly still, the only sound the footfall of a sentry’s shifting. The tickling mouse sound was her breathing, almost swallowed within her. The glitter of moonlight on her face came not from magic but from tears.
Did it matter that she wept? Slaves were like ghosts; they didn’t count as living people. They had lost their families and their honor. They had lost, and others had claimed their lives. That was the way of the world.
So Father Mei would say.
He crawled back in and lay down on his back, but still he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about Cornflower, about her tears. Maybe the demons had won the skirmish after all. Maybe they had only pretended to flee, but their souls had flown into camp and brought with them the wind that sometimes spills down out of Spirit Gate to unsettle the world of the living with the sorrows of the dead.
11
Mai waited in silence. She heard Shai yelling; she heard the discontented muttering of the Qin soldiers as O’eki, which was his real name even though Father Mei had renamed him Mountain, returned their money. Captain Anji listened with no sign of agitation. He seemed ready to stand here all night. A servant came to stoke the fire with two dried dung patties, then retreated. Priya said nothing, but Mai heard her even breathing.
It was all gone, every part of the round of life in Kartu Town to which she had become accustomed and to which she had accustomed herself. It was dead. In a way she had passed through Spirit Gate and gained a new kind of freedom, and although she remained silent, her heart was pounding and her throat was full, her eyes brimming, her cheeks flushed. There was exhilaration, of a kind. She had made a demand, used her authority. But, oh, she feared what might come next.
Finally, as the soldiers settled down for the night and the ring of sentries paced out their places, Anji spoke to her.
“Is there anything I should know about this slave? I am troubled by the disruption she has already brought down on my troop. I wonder if those demons who attacked us came looking for her, knowing she is one of them.”
She gathered her courage. If she did not defend Cornflower, no one would. No one ever had in the Mei compound. “She’s not a demon.”
“Is she not? With that coloring? Have you seen the western demons, Mai? The ones who live in the country beyond the lands ruled by the Qin? Most of these demons are pale-haired and blue-eyed, just like her. That’s where she must have come from, out of the west.”
“If they are demons, how can they be taken as slaves?”
“They can be captured. Or, if she’s demon’s get, then her dam might be human born. Her mother might have sold her, to be rid of the shame. Where did she come from?”
“The marketplace in Kartu Town, about two years ago. My father said he bought her to appease Uncle, the one who is dead now, but he also bought her because he lusted after her himself. All the uncles did, all but Shai. Shai never touched her. Everyone suspected she poisoned my uncle, the one who is dead now. He did die horribly, so all the wives wanted to be rid of her. That, and because they were jealous of her. All of the uncles used her. Some nights they would take turns. They couldn’t keep away from her. My mother wanted her out of the house but the men couldn’t bear to let her go.”
The captain folded his arms across his chest and stared thoughtfully at the fire. “It sounds like she’s demon’s get. They have that pull on men.”
“Do demons weep when they are sad?”
“I don’t know.”
“It was cruel of my father to send her with Shai.”
“Why?”
“Because Shai never got anything he wanted but plenty he did not want. Because he’s unlucky already, being a seventh son—”
“A seventh son?” To Mai’s amazement, the captain looked startled, and his startlement gratified her strangely. Warmly. She hadn’t thought she could surprise a man like him. “Does he have the second sight? Can he see ghosts? Seventh sons can always see ghosts.”
“You must ask him yourself. I don’t own his secrets, if he has any.”
He smiled, and she realized, startled herself, that he knew she had already answered him. “The Qin don’t usually see ghosts. There aren’t many ghosts out in the ancestors’ lands. But I see them all along the Golden Road. Do you see ghosts, Mai?”
His comment and question punched all the air from her. She could only mouth the word “no,” stunned at his ca
sual admission. Shai would never ever admit he saw ghosts. She had figured it out by herself because of certain inconsistencies that cropped up now and again when he spoke.
“It’s bad luck to see ghosts,” she murmured. “In Kartu, people who see ghosts are burned as witches or banished from town, which is the same as being burned, because you’ll die anyway.”
“It’s bad luck to see a swarm of bandits riding down on your position when they have twice as many armed men as you do, but at least you’re forewarned. Since ghosts are there, isn’t it better to be able to see them than to wish you were blind?”
“Do the Qin burn witches?”
“There are no witches among the Qin. Some among the clans have power to see into the spirit world. A few have climbed the axis of heaven and returned to tell of it.”
“What is the axis of heaven?”
“It’s the center-pole of the world. Just as in a tent.”
“I’ve never been in a tent.”
“Ah. Of course not. When we set up our wedding tent, I will show you.”
She thought of Cornflower’s silence as that Qin soldier had worked at her, hump hump hump. “When will we set up our wedding tent?”
“I went to get this,” he replied, as if he hadn’t heard her. She bit her lower lip, noticed she was doing so, and relaxed her mouth shut as he went on. Be like finest silk, Grandmother had told her, be smooth and without blemish. “Just before the demons attacked us. It’s the custom among the Qin for a man to give his bride a black banner with her clan’s sigil on it before they race.”
“Race?”
“Race, on horseback. If he can catch her, then he has earned the right to marry her. He captures her banner. I had this made.”
Mai watched as the captain unfolded cloth. He had a neat, efficient way of moving without being fussy. He was a man at home with himself, not self-conscious but not self-effacing either. Perfectly balanced.
Unfurled, the banner extended from fingertip to fingertip. It was all black silk except for a few odd silver highlights sewn into the cloth, and it took a moment for her to accustom herself to the fire’s light and by its glow see that those silver highlights depicted an eye and strands of hair. The banner was embroidered with the sigil of the Mei clan, the running wolf created in precise detail but in black, on black, so the wolf wasn’t easily seen. Such a banner couldn’t be finished overnight or in one week. Such a banner had to be planned well in advance, and even a Qin officer would pay dearly to hire a master craftsman able to complete it.