Authors: Peter V. Brett
None of the Hollow tribe carried shields, so Jardir put them behind the line, personally escorting Leesha with Hasik and a handful of the Spears of the Deliverer. Demons filtered in quickly after the
dal'Sharum
passed to feed on the corpses of corelings left for the sun, and they did not hesitate to attack the small group.
At first the Krasians had sought to protect them, but as Jardir had hoped, Leesha and the others quickly disabused them of the need. Rojer's fiddle tricked the demons into traps or set them against one another. Leesha hurled her fire magic at the
alagai,
scattering them like sand in the wind. Gared and Wonda strode into packs of demons with impunity, the giant Cutter hacking them to pieces with his axe and machete as Wonda's bow hummed like the strings of Rojer's fiddle, killing every demon she so much as glanced at from afar. She even took several out of the sky before they could swoop down on the shield wall.
She was well away from the others when her arrows ran out. A flame demon hissed and charged at her, and one of the Spears of the Deliverer gave a cry, rushing to defend her.
He needn't have bothered. Wonda slung the bow from her shoulder and grabbed the demon by the horns, pivoting to avoid its firespit and turning it to the ground with a smooth
sharusahk
twist. A warded knife appeared in her hand, slashing the demon's throat.
She looked up, and the ichor lust in her eyes matched that of any
Sharum
Jardir had ever seen. She smiled to the dumbstruck
dal'Sharum
who had a moment before been rushing to save her, but then her eyes widened, and she pointed to the sky.
'Look out!' she cried, too late, as a wind demon dropped from the sky, tearing through the warrior's armor and laying him open with its deadly talons.
Everyone reacted at once. A warded knife appeared in Rojer's hand, flying to strike the demon at the same time as Wonda's thrown blade and three spears, dropping it before it could take back to the sky. Leesha lifted her skirts and ran to the fallen warrior. The
alagai
was still thrashing, mere inches away, when she knelt at his side. Jardir hurried to join her as Gared and his Spears put an end to the demon and stood watch for others.
The warrior, Restavi, had served Jardir loyally for years. His armor was soaked with blood. He struggled madly as Leesha tried to look at his wound.
'Hold him down,' Leesha ordered, her tone no different than that of a
dama'ting,
one used to obedience. 'I can't work with him thrashing about.'
Jardir complied, taking Restavi's shoulders and pinning him firmly. The warrior met Jardir's eyes, his own wide and wild. 'I am ready, Deliverer!' he cried. 'Bless me and send me on the lonely road!'
'What's he saying'' Leesha asked as she cut through his thick robe, casting aside the shattered ceramic plates within. She swore as the size of the gaping wound became apparent.
'He is telling me his soul is ready for Heaven,' Jardir said. 'He asks that I bless him with a quick death.'
'You'll do no such thing,' Leesha snapped. 'You tell him his soul may be ready, but his body isn't.'
How like the Par'chin she is,
Jardir thought, and found himself missing his old friend deeply. Restavi was obviously dying, but the Northern healer refused to let him go without a fight. There was honor in that, and he knew well the insult she would take if he ignored her wishes and killed the man, even at his request.
Jardir took Restavi's face in his hands, meeting his eyes. 'You are a Spear of the Deliverer! You will walk the lonely road when I command it, and not before. Embrace the pain and be still!'
Restavi shuddered, but he nodded, drawing a deep breath as his struggles ceased. Leesha looked at the men in surprise, then pushed Jardir aside and set to work.
'Have the shield wall continue on,' Jardir told Hasik. 'I will wait with the mistress as she attends Restavi.'
'To what end'' Hasik asked. 'Even if he survives, he will never lift the spear again.'
'You know that no better than I,' Jardir said. 'It is
inevera.
I will not interfere with my betrothed any more than I would a
dama'ting.
'
The Spears of the Deliverer remained behind, forming a circle with Leesha and Restavi at its center, but there was little need. Rojer wove a shield of sound around them, and no
alagai
dared draw near.
'We can move him,' Leesha said at last. 'I've stopped the bleeding, but he 'll need more surgery, and for that I'll need a proper table and better light.'
'Will he live to fight another day'' Jardir asked.
'He's alive,' Leesha said. 'Isn't that enough for now''
Jardir frowned, choosing his words carefully. 'If he cannot fight, he will likely take his own life later.'
'Or else he becomes
khaffit
'' Leesha asked, scowling.
Jardir shook his head. 'Restavi has killed hundreds of
alagai.
His place in Heaven is assured.'
'Then why would he kill himself'' Leesha demanded.
'He is
Sharum,
' Jardir said. 'He is meant to die on
alagai
talons, not old and shriveled in some bed, a burden to his family and tribe. This is why the
dama'ting
do not see to the wounded until dawn.'
'So the ones injured most deeply will be dead'' Leesha asked.
Jardir nodded.
'That's inhuman,' Leesha said.
Jardir shrugged. 'It is our way.'
Leesha looked at him and shook her head. 'And there is the difference between us. Your people live to fight, while mine fight to live. What will you do when you win Sharak Ka and have nothing left to fight for''
'Then Ala and Heaven will be as one,' Jardir said, 'and all will be paradise.'
'So why did you not kill that man when he asked you to'' Leesha asked.
'Because you asked that I not,' Jardir said. 'I made the mistake once of ignoring such a plea from one of your people, and it almost cost our friendship.'
Leesha tilted her head at him curiously. 'The one Abban calls the Par'chin''
Jardir's eyes narrowed. 'What did the
khaffit
tell you of him''
Leesha met him with a stern gaze. 'Nothing, other than that they were friends, and that I reminded him of him. Why''
Jardir's flare of anger at Abban faded as quickly as it came, leaving him feeling empty and sad. 'The Par'chin was my friend, too,' he said at last, 'and you are like he was in some ways, and different in others. The Par'chin had a
Sharum's
heart.'
'Meaning'' Leesha asked.
'Meaning he fought for others to live, as you do, but for himself, he lived to fight. When his body was broken and the odds without hope, he clawed his way to his feet and fought to his last breath.' 'He's dead'' Leesha asked in surprise. Jardir nodded. 'Many years since.'
Leesha worked deep into the night in the surgery of a former Rizonan hospit, cutting and stitching the injured
dal'Sharum
back together again. Her arms were covered in blood and her back ached from bending over the table, but Restavi would live, and likely recover fully.
The
dama'ting
who had taken over the building whispered among themselves as she worked, watching Leesha in something part wonder and part horror. She could sense their anger at her intrusion, especially at night, and their resentment of her barked orders, but her translator was Jardir himself, and none of the white-covered women dared refuse the Shar'Dama Ka. Wonda and Gared had been forced to remain outside, as had Rojer and Jardir's bodyguards.
The
dama'ting,
acting like captives in their own home, breathed an almost palpable sigh of relief when Inevera stormed into the surgery. Her face was livid with rage as she strode right up to Leesha, standing nose-to-nose.
'How dare you'' Inevera growled, her Thesan heavily accented but clear. Perfume hung about her in a cloud, and her wanton dress reminded Leesha of her mother.
'How dare I what'' Leesha demanded, not backing down an inch. 'Save the life of a man you would have let bleed until dawn''
Inevera's only response was to slap Leesha in the face, her sharp nails drawing blood. Leesha was knocked aside, and before she could recover, the woman drew a curved knife and came at her again.
'You are not fit to stand in my husband's presence, much less lie in his bed,' Inevera spat.
Leesha's hand darted into one of the many pockets of her apron, and as Inevera drew close, she snapped her fingers in the Damajah's face, scattering blinding powder in a tiny cloud.
Inevera shrieked and fell away, clutching her face, as Leesha righted herself. Inevera splashed a pitcher of water in her face, and when she looked back at Leesha, her face powders were running in horrid streaks. Her reddened, hate-filled eyes promised death.
'Enough!' Jardir shouted, interposing himself between the two. 'I forbid you to fight!'
'You
forbid
me''
Inevera demanded, incredulous. Leesha felt much the same'Jardir could no more forbid her anything than Arlen'but Jardir was only focused on Inevera. He raised the Spear of Kaji for all to see.
'I do,' he said. 'Do you intend to disobey''
Silence fell over the room, and the other
dama'ting
looked at one another in confusion. Inevera might be their leader, but Jardir was the voice of their god. Leesha could well imagine what might happen if Inevera resisted further.
Indeed, the woman seemed to realize it as well, and deflated. She turned on her heel and stormed from the hospit, snapping her fingers to the other
dama'ting,
who all followed after her.
'I will pay for that,' Jardir murmured to himself in Krasian, but Leesha understood. For a moment, his shoulders slumped, and he looked not like the invincible and infallible leader of Krasia, but like her own father after a fight with Elona. She could almost see Jardir imagining all the myriad ways Inevera could make his life miserable, and her heart went out to him.
But then a woman's scream cut the silence, and the tired man vanished in an instant, replaced again by the most powerful man in the world.
A PINCH OF BLACKLEAF
333 AR SUMMER
THE GREENLAND GIANT WAS roaring like a lion when Jardir burst from the
dama'ting
sanctuary, Leesha following close behind. Amkaji and Coliv had put lines on his wrists, and three
dal'Sharum
pulled on the rope to either arm, hauling at him like a raging stallion. One warrior, clung tenaciously to his great back, his arms crossed in front of the giant's throat in an attempt to choke him down, but if Gared even noticed, he gave no sign. The warrior's feet swung far from the ground, and even those pulling on the lines stumbled to keep him contained.
Rojer was pinned helplessly, almost casually, against a wall by another
dal'Sharum
who held him in place with one hand as he watched what was transpiring, an amused grin on his face.
'What is going on here'' Jardir demanded. 'Where is the woman''
Before any of the
Sharum
could answer, there was another cry, coming from an alley between the buildings. 'Any warrior touching one of the greenlanders when I return will lose the offending hands!' he shouted as he charged to the alley, flying past the others at blinding speed.
Wonda was in the alleyway, held from behind by a warrior who howled as she bit into his arm. Another warrior lay on the ground, clutching between his legs, and a third, Jurim, leaned against the wall, staring in horror at an arm twisted in an impossible direction.
'Release her!' Jardir roared, and everyone looked up at him. Wonda was released instantly, and she drove an elbow into the stomach of the warrior behind her, doubling him over as she reached for the knife at her belt.
Jardir pointed his spear at her. 'Do not,' he warned. Just then, Leesha made it to the alley, gasping at the sight. She ran to Wonda immediately.
'What happened'' Leesha asked.
'Those sons of the Core tried to rape me!' Wonda said.
'The Northern whore lies, Deliverer,' Jurim spat. 'She attacked us and broke my arm! I demand her life!'
'You expect us to believe that Wonda lured the three of you here and attacked you'' Leesha demanded.
Jardir ignored them both. It was obvious what had happened. He had hoped Wonda's prowess on the battlefield would impress the warriors enough to dissuade this sort of behavior, but Jurim and the others had apparently felt the need to remind her that off the battlefield, she was still a woman, and an unmarried one at that. By Evejan law, she had no right to refuse a
Sharum
or attack a man for any reason. Jurim and the others had committed no crime, and were within their rights to demand the girl's life.
But the greenlanders did not see it that way, Jardir knew, and he needed their warriors, man and women alike, for Sharak Ka. He glanced at Leesha and knew, too, that not all his reasons were selfless. The
Sharum
would have to be taught to control themselves. An abject lesson like the one he had given Hasik so many years before.
Jardir swept his arm at Jurim and the others, then pointed at the wall. They obediently lined up, backs straight, all of them ignoring wounds the girl had inflicted. She was a born warrior, whatever her gender.