The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms - Page 60/115

And it made sense she had chosen to act through Menchey. Menchey was Darrs largest and most powerful neighbor, once our greatest enemy. We had been at peace with the Mencheyev since the Gods War, but only because the Arameri had been unwilling to grant either land permission to annihilate the other. But as Ras Onchi had warned me, things had changed.

Of course they had submitted a formal war petition. They would want the right to shed our blood.

I would hope we had begun to muster forces as well, in the time since, I said. It was no longer my place to give orders; I could only suggest.

My grandmother sighed. As best we could. Our treasury is so depleted we can barely afford to feed them, much less train and equip. No one will lend us funds. Weve resorted to asking for volunteersany woman with a horse and her own weapons. Men as well, if theyre not yet fathers.

It was very bad if the council had resorted to recruiting men. By tradition men were our last line of defense, their physical strength bent toward the single and most important task of protecting our homes and children. This meant the council had decided that our only defense was to defeat the enemy, period. Anything else meant the end of the Darre.

Ill give you what I can, I said. Dekarta watches everything I do, but I have wealth now, and

No. Beba touched my shoulder again. I could not remember the last time she had touched me without reason. But then, I had never seen her leap to protect me from danger, either. It pained me that I would die young and never truly know her.

Look to yourself, she said. Darr is not your concern, not any longer.

I scowled. It will always be

You said yourself they would use us to hurt you. Look whats happened just from your effort to restore trade.

I opened my mouth to protest that this was merely their excuse, but before I could, Nahadoths head turned sharply east.

The sun comes, he said. Beyond Sar-enna-nems entry arch, the sky was pale; night had faded quickly.

I cursed under my breath. I will do what I can. Then, on impulse, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, as I had never dared to do before in my whole life. She held stiff against me for a moment, surprised, but then sighed and rested her hands on my back.

So much like your father, she whispered. Then she pushed me away gently.

Nahadoths arm folded around me, surprisingly gentle, and I found my back pressed against the human solidity of the body within his shadows. Then the body was gone and so was Sar-enna-nem, and all was cold and darkness again.

I reappeared in my room in Sky, facing the windows. The sky here was still mostly dark, though there was a hint of pale against the distant horizon. I was alone, to my surprise, but also to my relief. It had been a very long, very difficult day. Without undressing I lay downbut sleep did not come immediately. I lay where I was awhile, reveling in the silence, letting my mind rest. Like bubbles in still water, two things rose to the surface of my thoughts.

My mother had regretted her bargain with the Enefadeh. She had sold me to them, but not without qualm. I found it perversely comforting that she had tried to kill me at birth. That seemed like her, choosing to destroy her own flesh and blood rather than let it be corrupted. Perhaps she had only decided to accept me on her termslater, without the heady rush of new motherhood to color her feelings. When she could look into my eyes and see that one of the souls in them was my own.

The other thought was simpler, yet far less comforting.

Had my father known?

17

Relief

DURING THOSE NIGHTS, those dreams, I saw through a thousand eyes. Bakers, blacksmiths, scholars, kingsordinary and extraordinary, I lived their lives every night. But as with all dreams, I now remember only the most special.

In one, I see a darkened, empty room. There is almost no furniture. An old table. A messy, half-ragged pile of bedding in one corner. A marble beside the bedding. No, not a marble; a tiny, mostly blue globe, its nearer face a mosaic of brown and white. I know whose room this is.

Shhh, says a new voice, and abruptly there are people in the room. A slight figure, half-draped across the lap of another body that is larger. And darker. Shhh. Shall I tell you a story?

Mmm, says the smaller one. A child. Yes. More beautiful lies, Papa, please.

Now, now. Children are not so cynical. Be a proper child, or you will never grow big and strong like me.

I will never be like you, Papa. That is one of your favorite lies.

I see tousled brown hair. A hand strokes it, long-fingered and graceful. The father? I have watched you grow these long ages. In ten thousand years, a hundred thousand

And will my sun-bright father open his arms when I have grown so great, and welcome me to his side?