‘Toss the first couple,’ Darel advised. ‘Gets easier after that.’ They touched cups and threw them back, eyes widening. Rojer had been drinking since he was twelve and thought himself used to the worst burn alcohol could bring to bear, but this was like drinking fire. Gared started coughing.
Darel just smiled, filling their cups again. Once more they tossed them back, and this time, as he said, it was easier. Or maybe their tongues and throats were just numb.
Gared sipped the third cup thoughtfully. ‘Tastes like …’
‘… cinnamon,’ Rojer finished, swishing the liquid in his mouth.
‘The Krasians are like couzi,’ Darel pulled at his whiskers, ‘or this corespawned itchy beard they make all the men grow. Take some getting used to, but not so bad after a while. They let me keep my business so long as I pay my taxes and keep to the rules, and if I arrange a marriage for my granddaughter by the time she bleeds, I don’t have to worry about the white witches arranging one for her.’
He paled suddenly, looking sharply at Rojer.
Rojer smiled and held up his scarred hand. ‘Keep your pants dry. I may have married a dama’ting, but that doesn’t mean they’re any less scary to me. Might want to get out of the habit of calling them white witches, though. “An act practised in private will eventually be seen”, as my master used to say.’
‘Ay,’ Darel agreed. ‘Fair and true.’
‘You were saying?’ Rojer prompted. ‘Krasians aren’t so bad?’
‘Find that hard to swallow,’ Gared said. ‘Like saying it’s not so bad having a boot on your back.’
Darel poured himself a cup of couzi, tossing it back with a practised quickness. ‘Ent saying I don’t miss the old days, and plenty have it worse than me, but generally, you remember when to bow and keep your nose clean, the Krasians leave you be. You have a dispute with your neighbour, it still goes to the Town Speaker first, and then he takes it to the dama if it ent something he can settle on the spot. The dama are generally fair, but they take all that ear-for-an-ear business in the Canon literally. Know a feller lost a hand for stealing a chicken, and another who raped a girl, and had to watch the same done to his sister.’
Gared balled a fist. ‘And that ent so bad?’
Darel threw back another cup. ‘It’s bad, ay, but I don’t steal chickens and rape girls. Reckon there’ll be a lot less of that in the future, too. Evejan law is harsh, but can’t deny it gets results.’
‘And them taking all the boys?’ Gared asked. ‘I had a son, I wouldn’t stand for that.’
Darel swished his third cupful in his mouth, swallowing thoughtfully. ‘Got a grandson they took. Ent happy about it, but they let him come home every month on new moon. Waning, they call it. Boys’re getting it rough, coming home with bruises and broken bones, but no worse’n the Krasian boys. They’re picking up the language and rules quicker than the rest of us, and the dama says that the ones who earn the black will be full citizens, with all the rights of a Sharum lord. And the ones who don’t are kicked out as khaffit.’ He smiled, scratching his neck. ‘Which ent too different from my lot, ’cept without the itchy beard.’
Rojer sipped his fourth – or was it his fifth? – cup of couzi. His head was beginning to spin. ‘How many boys did they take from … where are we, anyway?’
‘Used to be Appleton,’ Darel said. ‘Now it’s some long bunch of sand words. We just call it Sharachville, ’coz that’s our tribe now. There were thirty boys here the right age for Hannu Pash or whatever.’
Rojer had to steady himself on Gared as they climbed back up the steps. He had drunk a big mug of fresh water and chewed a sourleaf, but he doubted his wives would be fooled if he stumbled over his own feet on the way to bed. Fortunately, Rojer was Arrick Sweetsong’s apprentice and had a lot of practice pretending to be sober when he was anything but.
‘They’re building an army bigger than all the Free Cities combined,’ he said quietly. ‘Lakton doesn’t have a chance.’
‘Gotta do something,’ Gared said. ‘Find the Painted Man, fight, something. Can’t just sit back and let ’em take everything south of the Hollow.’
‘First thing is to warn folk in Lakton what’s coming,’ Rojer said. ‘Got some ideas about that, but I need a night’s sleep and maybe a pot to sick up in first.’
It took all his mummer’s skills and acrobatics to keep steady as he walked by Enkido. If the giant eunuch took any notice of him, he did not show it. Inside, Amanvah was still in her private chamber, the evil glow of wardlight shining from under the door. He made his way into bed without a problem. Sikvah was waiting for him, but she said nothing as he collapsed face-first into the pillows. He felt tugging as she pulled off his boots and clothes, but while he did not resist, neither did he have strength to assist. She stroked his back gently, cooing as he fell fast asleep.
14
The Song of Waning
333 AR Summer20 Dawns Before New Moon
Rojer’s head was pounding when he was woken an hour before dawn. The novelty of Sikvah waiting on his every need – bathing him, picking his clothes, dressing him – had begun to wear thin, but he was thankful for it now. His head felt like it was kicked by a mule, and his mouth stuffed with cotton.
‘Haven’t gotten sauced like that since Angiers,’ he muttered.
Sikvah looked up. ‘Eh?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing. Going to need you to entertain Erny and Elona in the carriage this morning. Need to talk to Leesha.’
‘That is not appropriate, husband,’ Amanvah said, sweeping in from her personal chamber carrying a small wooden box, varnished black and polished to a shine. Had she been in there all night? Rojer had no recollection of her coming to bed, but he had been far gone. ‘The daughter of Erny is unwed and my father’s intended, and you are a married man. You cannot …’
Sikvah was buttoning his shirt cuff, but Rojer yanked his hand away so fast she gasped. ‘Demonshit. I swore to be a good and loyal husband, and that was honest word, but that don’t mean I gave up my right to talk to my friends in private. If you think it does, we’ve got a problem.’
Sikvah seemed scandalized, and Amanvah was silent a long moment, looking down at the box she held, tapping it against one hand. Rojer knew that was as irritated as he would likely ever see her, even if she were about to put her knife in his eye, or have Enkido break his fingers.
But at that moment, Rojer didn’t care. ‘Marriage is the death of freedom,’ his master used to say. He shook his head, deliberately buttoning his own cuff. Not for me. Corespawn me if it is.
At last Amanvah looked up and met his eyes. ‘As you wish, husband.’
Leesha was a little surprised when Rojer asked to ride with her that morning, but did not question it. She told herself she was still annoyed with his decision to marry, but truer was she missed him terribly. Rojer had been her best friend and closest confidant for over a year, and she felt an emptiness when he was not close by.
Amanvah and Sikvah had put up an impenetrable wall with more than their singing and wailing. When they stopped for the night, they guarded Rojer like lions around a kill. This was the first time Leesha had been alone with him since the trip started, and even now they were forced to leave the curtains of the carriage open as a nod to Krasian decency. Sharum rode by regularly, not even bothering to hide their spying as they checked to ensure that she and Rojer remained clothed and on opposite benches.