Traitors' Gate (66 page)

“With your permission, Commander Joss,” said Anji, scrupulously formal and his voice pitched to be heard without him seeming to shout. “After we've looked around here, I have in mind—if you'll do the honors—to scout Lord Radas's army. I'd like to see for myself what we're up against. Talk to those folk who have a stake in the matter. Fly into Nessumara, if it's safe to do so. Scout Toskala and High Haldia. How much support can we get from the occupied population? If they truly chafe, they may be ready to bite back. What's needed is a coordinated
plan with enough flexibility to adapt to changing local circumstances, a powerful lot of persuasion, and a cursed good chain of communication.”

“My reeves can easily communicate over distance. Also, as you and I discussed before, we're trying out some new formations—strike forces, if you will.”

Anji nodded. “They can plant soldiers and scouts behind enemy lines. Move diversionary troops, aid flank movements, and disrupt lines of supply. As archers, they could penetrate almost any fortification.”

Joss grimaced. “You've thought this through beyond what I have. It goes against tradition for reeves to be used as soldiers.”

“We can sit and wait, or we can act.”

“Are you truly ready to lead an army against Lord Radas?”

“I have a son. I intend to see him grow to manhood.” Anji indicated the grasslands to the south. “That's the kind of country the Qin inhabit. Yet when I went to the boundary of the Lend to bargain for horses, I was told humans were not allowed to walk in the grass.”

“We can't break the boundaries. The Lend is forbidden to us. So is the great forest we call the Wild, in whose heart no human may walk. And the inner mountain fastnesses held by the delvings and protected by traps and magic. All the tales say humans once lived in those places. Now they no longer do.”

“Things can be taken from us while we're not paying attention.” Anji's smile bit like a sword cut. He gestured toward the high carved entrance into the caverns of Horn Hall. “Shall we go in?”

The eagles had cleared out, flying to perches where they could sun and preen. As Joss walked with Anji and his men across the ledge, Siras signaled with a flip of the hand.

“Go on in, Captain,” Joss said. “I'll follow in a moment.”

Anji looked at Joss, followed an unseen thread to Siras, smiled slightly, and nodded. With his men, he strolled into the first cavern, the soldiers staring around like curious children.

Joss hung back in the sun-swept plaza as Siras hurried over. “Greetings of the dusk, Siras. How is your eagle? Your training?”

The young man grinned. He didn't even need to say anything. But when his gaze shifted to the cave mouth and the huge vault within, his mouth turned down. “It's like this, Commander. Verena is marshal of Argent Hall—of course you know that.”

The sun's glare was, at long last, triggering an ache in Joss's temples. Or maybe it was only the secret Marit had told him eating away at his heart. He nodded.

Siras went on. “She sent word to Arda at Naya Hall that the Qin have asked for reeves to be assigned as messengers and transport for the captain's use.”

“Verena and I discussed it,” agreed Joss, rubbing his brows.

“It seems because I served as your assistant for that time in Argent Hall, that the captain decided I was trustworthy. So he came to me five days ago—”

“Anji came to you?”

“He came to Naya Hall and asked me to fly him to Merciful Valley—”

“Merciful Valley?”

“That's what they're calling that valley up in the mountains where the captain's child was born. Mistress Mai placed an altar at the birthing place to her god, and no one could say her nay.”

“No, I don't suppose they could. The Spires are the borderlands of the Hundred. I don't see why our gods would be jealous of an altar in such an isolated place. Go on.”

“Afterward the captain said he'd like to keep the place off limits to reeves for the time being, until some holy thanksgiving boundary has passed. He's been going up once a month on Wakened Ox with his wife to make a thanksgiving offering. They take up a small chest, the kind you'd store expensive spices in or rich folk their jeweled combs and gold necklaces. Three months running. But this time the captain asked me to transport him up there alone.”

“Alone?”

“That was the first puzzling thing, because you know he never travels anywhere without those two guards. He took up that same chest, only this time it was bound with an iron chain.
He said he needed to make a father's private offering at the cave where his son was born.”

“Go on.”

“So I flew him there. At his request I left him and came back the next day to fetch him. He was wearing a different tunic and trousers. I only noticed because the ones he'd worn the day before were threadbare and patched, and these were newly sewn.”

“It's possible he changed clothes to make his offering. Like we do for festival days. Is there anything else?”

“He didn't bring the chest back with him.”

“Maybe it was part of the offering.”

“What do you suppose the Qin use for offerings? I asked around. Reeves who were up in Merciful Valley before with the mistress said she takes flowers as offerings, just as folk should.”

Joss thought of what Tohon had told him about the Qin habit of ridding themselves of imperfect children. Killing them. His cursed head was beginning to throb. “Any news of the child?”

“Atani?” His smile was innocent enough to charm a cadre of susceptible young women. “The market women in Astafero talk about him all the time. The mistress, she comes out to the big house in Astafero each month right around Wakened Ox and stays for a few days to confer with that Silver woman who runs her household there. If the Qin officers aren't carrying that child around as gentle as you please despite their grim faces and cold swords, then the house women haul him everywhere. How the market women do fuss over that baby!” His own expression was wistful, as if he missed a younger sibling from home.

“Odd news, indeed. My thanks for bringing it to me, Siras.”

“Is there some trouble, Commander?”

“No. Why shouldn't a man make a private offering to thank the gods for the safe birth of a healthy child? If you see or hear aught else, bring it to me. I'm not just speaking of the Qin soldiers, mind you, but in a general sense. Olossi's council. What the market women are saying. Gossip among the militiamen. Rumblings among the hirelings. Whispers at the temple of the Merciless One.”

The young man's eyes widened as he absorbed his new assignment. “Yes, Commander!” He grinned and hustled away, no doubt enamored of the idea of playing spy for the reeve halls.

What on earth did Joss think Siras might overhear, as guileless as the lad was? He walked into the shadowed cavern, his headache easing as soon as he was free of the sun's grasp. Yet the commander of the reeve halls was involved in a far greater enterprise than just simple patrol. The magnitude of what he'd taken on yawned before him like the gulf of air beyond a cliff face that drops away to jagged rock far below. Aui!

“Commander?” Captain Anji and his men were waiting.

Joss smiled crookedly and walked over to them.

Anji tapped Joss's forearm in a rare display of fellowship. “Why wait, Commander? Send a message to my wife now. Let her be brought at once by reeve to meet with Horn's council. If we move quickly, our enemy will be less likely to guess at our plans and prepare to fight us.”

“You would risk her walking into a hostile city?”

Anji gestured to the emptied cavern, the shadowed ceiling, the dusty corridors. “If even the inhabitants of this unassailable hall could be killed—by treachery—then there will be no safe place in the Hundred until we make it one.”

Joss grasped the captain's wrist, feeling the strength of Anji's arm beneath his hand. “Of course you are right. It begins here.”

•  •  •

T
HE GATES OF
Horn were huge, the height of six men or more. They were closed tight shut. Militiamen leaned over the parapets, arrows nocked. Mai had practiced speeches and phrases so many times that it was not in fact difficult to address Horn's closed gates. She had only to pitch her voice to be heard without sounding as if she were shouting.

“We are come as representatives of Olossi's council to meet with Horn's council in a place of your choosing, here at the gate or within your council hall. I am called Mai. Master Calon and I are merchants. This hierophant, Jodoni, comes at the behest of
the temple council of Olo'osson. Please hear our words. We are come today to ask you to join with us in an alliance against the army who call themselves the Star of Life. They have overrun most of the lands along the River Istri. We beat back a second army at Olossi, as you may have heard, but you can be sure that if Nessumara falls, Horn will be next and after Horn, Olossi. Each city and town—every reeve hall—will fall as long as each attempts to stand separately. The only way to defeat this army and these demons posing as Guardians is to join together.”

“Practiced words from a pretty girl,” called a woman in a deep, powerful voice. Mai scanned the parapet but did not see her. “Are you one of Hasibal's pilgrims? We've learned that an actress, one of Hasibal's pilgrims, crept into our city in disguise months ago and spied on us. Why should we trust you?”

“Olossi did send scouts into the north. They had to discover if Horn supported the Star of Life army.”

“We did not then nor did we ever!”

“Can you defeat the northern army if it marches against you in full force, fully fifteen cohorts?”

“Fifteen cohorts!”

A murmur of shocked voices drifted down from the wall. Wheels scraped, and the right-hand gate huffed open just far enough for a woman and a man to emerge. Both were dressed in formal council robes with sashes; the woman held the baton of a council “voice.”

“I am Poro,” said the woman, displaying the lacquered stick, “who speaks for the council. Seyon is the arkhon of Horn.”

“We don't have arkhons in Olo'osson,” said Master Calon, “but I understand an arkhon is leader of the council.”

Seyon nodded but seemed uninclined to speak. He was short and slight and held about him a sense of chained energy.

The woman's emotions were all too evident, boiling right on the surface. “Fifteen cohorts?” She examined Mai as if Mai were a bolt of silk labeled as best quality but merely being everyday quality. “How can you know?”

“Reeves are excellent scouts.”

“Reeves are not meant to
spy
for councils. They are meant to
preside over assizes courts, to track down criminals, to maintain a proper distance from councils who might otherwise influence their judgments.”

“What are they to do if the northern army overruns every city and town? If it burns the reeve halls? Then who will preside over the assizes? Not reeves. Not elected councils. Let me speak to your council and I will tell you what I know and what Olo'osson's council means to offer.”

“It's said Olossi is raising an army, commanded by an outlander.”

“Olo'osson has already been attacked by the northerners. We intend to protect ourselves, just as you do.”

“Why not send this captain to negotiate with us, then?”

“Would you admit into your well-guarded city an armed man who is also an outlander?”

Poro laughed. “A not unreasonable point.”

Seyon looked her up and down in a measuring way. “An armed man appears as a threat. So instead they send a beautiful young woman who spins words like golden thread. Who is more threatening, I ask you?” His smile took the sting out of the words; she knew she already had charmed him because she could see in his expression the look men got before they paid full price in the market even knowing they ought to bargain.

She met his gaze with a frankness that pleased him, seen in the crinkling of his eyes. “You have discovered our plot, ver. Forgive us the deception. But if we do not fight together, I assure you we cannot individually defeat fifteen cohorts and the lilu calling themselves Guardians who command them. If you cannot trust my report, we can send one of your trusted militia captains or council members north with a reeve to see for yourselves.”

“Why should we trust any reeves when Horn Hall abandoned us last year? Their own marshal came to the council and advised us to surrender to the northerners rather than fight a losing battle. Then they left. That's why we locked ourselves away, not knowing who to trust.”

“The reeves of Horn Hall were slaughtered, in the far north, at a place called the Eagle's Claws.”

“The Eagle's Claws!” Poro bent to whisper in Seyon's ear, and he shook his head, a dour look darkening his face like a cloud over the sun. “It's spoken of in the tales. It's said that on some days in the season of Shiver Sky, the rain turns white. Does such a place truly exist?”

“One reeve survived the slaughter, and he can testify to the truth of what happened. I've more besides to tell you.”

Seyon's long black hair was pulled back in a trifold braid. He fingered a braid in a thoughtful motion. “I say we let her speak.”

Poro's face bore the irritable expression of a woman who hasn't been brought her expected cup of tea in the morning. “Whose idea was it to send you, verea?”

“The outlander captain of Olo'osson's militia.”

“Perhaps he's wise enough to win a war that is clearly unwinnable. Enter, verea. The council will hear you.”

Mai gestured toward her escort of soldiers, one of whom was Anji wearing an ordinary soldier's helmet.

“Let them wait here,” added Poro. “To show you trust us.”

Calon wheezed out a breath, his face sheened with sweat. Jodoni said nothing. Mai smiled, even if it got a little hard to swallow. “Let the trust we offer you be the trust you offer us, verea.”