The Fire Seer and Her Quradum (10 page)

Everyone sat. The two guards took up positions behind Tufan’s chair.

Tufan held out his hand, and the bread tray was passed up the table to him. He picked through the flatbreads, selected one, and put it on his plate. He looked around the table, as if deciding where to pass the tray next, and his eyes lit on Taya and Mandir. “I see the Coalition vultures have arrived.”

At least he’d finally acknowledged them. Ignoring his rude comment, she said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Tufan didn’t hold out his hand to touch fingers. That was fine with her.

“Sir,” said Mandir. “It’s good to see you again.”

Tufan snorted. “Never was a boy so happy to be rid of this place as you were, nine years ago.”

Taya reached beneath the table and squeezed Mandir’s hand. He’d spoken with confidence, but she could tell that beneath his carefully controlled exterior, his heart was unsettled. What a shock it must be to see his hated father after nine years.

Tufan might not have changed much during that time, since he wasn’t showing his age, but Mandir would have changed dramatically. When he’d last been here, he’d been a boy of Setsi’s age. Tufan must have appeared large and frightening to him then. Today, Mandir was the bigger and stronger man of the two. She wondered how Tufan felt about that. Might he feel a little bit threatened? Or was he so secure in his cocoon of palace guard protection as to be free of such concerns?

“I’m here in an official capacity, as a Coalition representative,” said Mandir. “My partner Taya and I thank you for your hospitality.”

Tufan rolled his eyes. “I know you think that green-and-silver getup makes you important, but I’ve seen you in your swaddling clothes, Mandir.”

“Father—” began Mandir firmly.

“You play the big man,” said Tufan. “But a servant you were born, and a servant you’ll always be.”

Taya, seeing Mandir’s flushing cheeks, decided to intervene. “Mandir is highly valued in the Coalition. It is a sign of the elders’ trust that he was sent here to address such a distinguished personage as yourself.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Tufan. “They sent him because he’s my son and they thought that would have some influence on me. You, however, are a mystery. What’s your name, girl?”

She frowned at being called
girl
, given that she was a full-grown woman, but since it was clear Tufan hoped to pick a fight, she let the slight pass. “Taya.”

“Taya,” he repeated slowly, looking her over.

Her skin crawled. Mandir had looked at her in just that way when they’d met at Mohenjo Temple nine years ago. She hadn’t liked it then, and she didn’t like it now.

Tufan smiled. “I think I know now why they sent you. Come and sit at my left hand.”

Mandir broke in. “We’re happy sitting where we are.”

“What does the lady say?”

“I’m happy sitting where I am,” said Taya.

Tufan turned to Shala. “Look at you, pipkin. Lost all your beauty, and so quickly—no doubt your baby will be a girl. Stand up and trade places with the Coalition woman.”

Shala rose obediently from her seat—and then froze. Taya had not consented to trade seats and had not risen. Shala hesitated, standing awkwardly at the table, unsure what to do.

Taya would have refused to switch, but now she saw that she couldn’t do that without creating consequences for Shala. She rose and gestured, offering her seat. The pregnant woman hurried over, her relief plain in her posture, and Taya took the seat at Tufan’s left.

“That improves the scenery.” Tufan passed her the bread tray.

As she took a piece of flatbread from the tray, Taya stole a glance at Mandir. What did he think of this gambit of Tufan’s? But Mandir’s face was guarded, revealing nothing.

“Nindar,” called Tufan.

The boy snapped to alertness as if struck. “Yes, sir?”

“Is that chestnut mare ready yet?” asked Tufan.

“She needs a little more time,” said Nindar. “I rode her today, and she—”

“Put her in the corral tomorrow,” said Tufan. “I’ll try her out.”

Nindar lowered his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

The bread tray had circulated around the table. Tufan drizzled a bit of oil on his flatbread and tore off a piece. Instead of eating it, he handed it to one of the guards behind him. The guard chewed it, and for a long minute, everyone at the table waited for him to finish.

“It’s good,” said the guard.

Tufan began to eat his bread, and they all followed suit.

Taya was not enthusiastic about eating in this place, but she’d taken her bread from the common tray, and everyone was eating it, so poison seemed unlikely. She took a bite. The freshly baked flatbread was delicious, so much better than the hardtack she and Mandir had been surviving on recently that she had to restrain herself from shoving it all in her mouth. Across the table, however, Mandir ate slowly and without interest.

Tufan gestured, and the two large bowls of food were passed up to him. He served himself from each one. The first bowl held a mixture of seasoned barley and green peas, and the second some flat slabs of meat. He passed both bowls to Taya next. While she served herself, the food taster sampled each of the dishes from Tufan’s plate.

He pronounced the food safe, and they began the second course.

Tufan spat something into his plate. It clinked, and everyone in the room froze. All eating sounds stopped.

“The barley is undercooked,” said Tufan. “Who made this—Ilinos? Or Shala?”

“Shala,” said Ilinos.

“Ilinos,” said Shala.

Tufan looked from one to the other. Then he seemed to make a decision, fixing his gaze on Ilinos. “What happened to you?”

Taya’s skin prickled.

Ilinos shrank in his seat and mumbled something.

Tufan banged the table with his open hand, and everyone jumped. “Speak up!”

Ilinos stared at the table. “I fell.”

“You got into a fight.” Tufan rose to his feet, pushing back his chair. “Get up here, boy.”

Ilinos did not move.

“Get up here!” Tufan roared.

Ilinos rose and walked to the head of the table with his eyes downcast and his shoulders slumped. Never had Taya seen a plainer show of submission. Glancing around the room, she saw that while Yanzu and Shardali were smiling as they watched the drama, everyone else, including Mandir, looked away.

“Don’t get in a fight unless you’re going to win.” Tufan adopted a ridiculous-looking fighting stance, up on the balls of his feet with his fists raised. “You want to grow into a worthless coward like Shardali over there, someone who’s so jittered he can’t get his words out properly?”

Shardali’s smile faded.

Ilinos mumbled a response.

“Speak so I can
hear
you,” said Tufan. “Do you want to grow up like Shardali?”

“No, sir,” said Ilinos.

“Then hit me.” Tufan waggled his fingers in a come-on gesture.

“No,” mumbled Ilinos.

“I gave you an order,” said Tufan. “Hit me.”

Ilinos aimed a tepid punch at Tufan, who grabbed his arm and struck him in the belly. When Ilinos did not resist, Tufan hit him twice more, once in the chest and once on the chin. Ilinos fell to the floor.

Tufan’s face purpled with fury. “Get up.”

Taya glanced at Mandir. He’d lowered his head and interlaced his fingers behind his neck as if to restrain himself. His cheeks and neck were red; he looked ready to explode. But he was not moving. Nobody at the table was.

What she’d heard about Tufan had led her to envision a huge, frightening, and powerful man, but the reality was that Tufan was rather ordinary, unexceptional, and got away with the things he did because of the protection of the palace guards. And he was like any other bully in this place, attacking those smaller and weaker than himself.

Tufan kicked the boy. “Get up, you worthless bollhead!”

Ilinos curled up on the floor to protect his sensitive areas.

Tufan glanced back at his guards. “Send the dog.”

Bel-Sumai muttered a command in a language Taya did not know, and dropped the leash. The dog catapulted across the room, grabbed the boy’s bare leg, and began to worry it. Ilinos screamed, “Call him off! Call him off!”

Tufan nodded to Bel-Sumai, who called to the dog. The dog released Ilinos’s leg and slunk back to his master.

Ilinos staggered to his feet, weaving. Blood streaked his leg, and Taya could see that he was reluctant to put weight on the limb. Still, he faced his father, raising his chin in an attempt to look brave, while everything else about his posture signaled terror.

“Hit me,” said Tufan. “This time, not like a simpering girl.”

Ilinos started to pull back his fist, but his courage failed him. He lowered his arm.

“Useless boy.” Tufan began to beat Ilinos, punching and kicking him, while the boy, unresisting, brought his hands up to his face to protect himself. “Worm—coward—”

Taya couldn’t take it anymore. She rose from her chair.

Mandir’s head came up from the table. “Sit down,” he hissed urgently.

Setsi, on her left, grabbed her shirt and yanked her back into her chair. “Don’t,” he said softly. “You’ll make it worse.”

“I have to do
something
.”

Mandir shook his head. “There isn’t anything you can do.”

Taya bit her lip. She couldn’t bear this, watching a boy be beaten right in front of her by this pathetic excuse for a man, and for no good reason. But if both Setsi and Mandir said she would make things worse if she intervened, they were probably right.

Tufan was too focused on hitting and kicking Ilinos to notice their conversation. Finally, he seemed to tire of the exercise. “Get out of here,” he told the boy.

Ilinos, calling upon strength Taya didn’t think he had left, scrambled to his feet and fled.

“Well,” said Tufan, returning to his chair and using the cotton tablecloth to wipe the blood from his knuckles. “That improves the scenery.”

A bizarre comment, and it was the second time he’d said it.

Eating resumed as Tufan, after complaining about the barley, now shoveled it into his mouth. Taya tried to pretend that she was at a normal dinner party, surrounded by normal people, and not sitting next to someone who was utterly mad. She tried a bite of the barley. It was edible, aside from a few stray pieces that were undercooked.

She tried a bite of the meat, which turned out to be onager, a rare delicacy. But after tasting both dishes, she found she had no appetite. Across from her, Mandir also picked at his food. She wondered if the scene with Ilinos was unusual or part of the daily routine. Judging by how everyone at the table had reacted, the episodes were common enough that everyone had seen them before and knew how to respond, or rather, how not to respond.

She’d give a silver stick for Mandir’s thoughts right now. The injuries he’d inflicted on Ilinos this morning had drawn Tufan’s attention. How did he feel about that?

“Sir,” said Mandir, addressing his father, “the Accords of Let require that we take Setsi with us, back to the Coalition, for training in the use of his magic. We would like to take Nindar as well.”

“Interesting,” said Tufan. “Is Nindar magical?”

“We don’t know,” said Mandir. “He’s too young.”

“Then you have no authority to take him.” Tufan went back to his supper, apparently considering the subject closed.

Taya jumped in. “Sir, we’d like to bargain for his release.”

Tufan sniffed. “What have the likes of you to bargain with?”

“Money,” said Taya. “I can offer you two gold sticks—”

Tufan waved his hand. “I’ve no need of money.”

“We also have horses.” Not that she wanted to give up Soldier or Mandir’s blood bay, but she would if it saved Nindar.

“I have it on authority that you spent the day at my stable,” said Tufan. “Therefore you are aware that I already have many horses, all of which are of better quality than yours.”

“The boy Nindar is crippled and weak,” said Mandir. “He’s of little use to you.”

“And yet
you
want him,” said Tufan.

“I pity him,” said Mandir.

“Do you?” Tufan gave an ugly laugh. “If you want servants of your own, pitiful or otherwise, breed them yourself. Your foul organization—your
Coalition
—delights in taking what belongs to others. First they took you, and now they will take Setsi, if he consents to go. But they are not taking Nindar, unless they can offer a trade of equivalent value.”

“What would you consider equivalent in value?” asked Mandir.

“The woman,” said Tufan.

Taya sat up, her nerves jangling. She had not seen
that
coming.

“If you’re going to take my servant,” continued Tufan, “it’s only fair you should provide me with the means of breeding another. The Coalition woman will do for the purpose.” He smiled.

Mandir’s cheeks flushed. His eyes went hard, and his broad arms tensed. He was ready to fight Tufan,
eager
to fight him, and if hostilities broke out, Mandir would certainly dominate his father.

But it would never happen that way, one man against another. Tufan had the dog and two palace guards to protect him. And Mandir couldn’t afford to violate the Accords of Let.

“Sir, I am a member of the Coalition,” said Taya. “I am not a servant, and I cannot be traded to anyone.”

“You think you know the law better than I do?” said Tufan. “I had a palace education, and your hands tell me you grew up on a farm. You’re not the fine woman you pretend to be.”

Taya, stung by this observation, hid her hands beneath the table.

“You carry
kimat
with you. If you drink it, you cease to be a member of the Coalition. Then you could choose to stay here. If you do so, both Setsi and Nindar shall be allowed to go. I’ll put it in writing.”

“Your offer offends us,” said Mandir. “It’s out of the question.”

Taya was glad he’d answered for her. Of course the answer was no; she had no intention of sacrificing herself to a lifetime of rape and domestic slavery for anything. But given that her answer would doom both Setsi and Nindar to a fate almost as bad, it was hard to say that out loud. She didn’t dare look at Setsi, who sat next to her now, or Nindar, one seat over.