Servants of the Sands, page 48
Riss looked at the lines on her forearms, frowning.
“Honors?”
“You are no longer merely a northern stable hand, lord,” Retiae said, and began scraping the tapered edge against Riss’s skin. Riss felt only the slightest sensation of pressure. Dark flecks of crusted ink fell away to the floor. Retiae kept her pale skirts clear as she worked, shifting position often, working around Riss in a descending spiral, pausing every so often to sweep shavings out from underfoot.
During one such pause, Retiae added, “You are an honored member of Scratha Family and mate to a ha’ra’ha.”
“I’m what?” Riss stared down at Retiae as the girl began working on her right hip. “I’m not his mate!”
The girl paused, looking up at Riss with a sober expression. “You were more than simple amusement to ha’inn Idisio.”
“He left.” Riss heard a surprising amount of bitterness emerge in those two words and tried to moderate her tone as she went on, “He left me behind. That’s not—”
“—At all unusual,” Retiae interrupted. “Ha’ra’hain do not stay near humans for long, if they can avoid it. They generally find human company distasteful. But ha’inn Idisio cared for you, lord, and that was unusual. You may never see him again in this lifetime. He may not even think of you as the years go by, but you tie him closer to the human side of his heritage simply by having existed.”
Retiae dipped her head, looking down at the ground as though gathering herself together. Her shoulders moved in a deep sigh. When she looked up again, her gaze held a shadowed pain.
“You are not the first to become affectionate with a ha’ra’ha,” Retiae said. “It never ends well, lord. What you see as his emotions is an illusion born of misunderstanding.” She shook her head, visibly shifting her attitude from bleak to a rueful. “The concept of temporary relationships doesn’t apply when ha’ra’hain are involved. You were with ha’inn Idisio for a time, therefore you will always be with him. He will always have a primary claim upon you, whether it be now or twenty years from now, whatever he may ask of you. It is simpler that way. He will never love you, lord. He will only find you useful.”
“You make him sound so cold,” Riss said, shaken. “He isn’t like that at all. He’s warm, and funny, and silly, and a little—I don’t know, lost sometimes. He cares about a lot of things!”
“That may be true,” Retiae said. “But he is ha’ra’hain. He will outlive us all and not even notice our absence until our grandchildren are grown. I would rather he not care, lord, to be honest—because the less he cares, the less the passing of the years will hurt him. And the less he is hurt, the more likely he is to retain some fragment of consideration for us lesser creatures.” She ducked her head and went back to scraping dried ink from Riss’s skin.
Riss stood silently, blinking against a fierce burning sensation in her eyes, and made no more effort at conversation.
Chapter 59
The teyanain meal consisted of a delicately layered yeasted bread and a thick, filling meat stew, served alongside small bowls of fire rice and translucently thin-sliced pickled vegetables. The meat alone signaled a select honor. The spicy black rice was a double-edged mark above that. Black rice only came from near the Jungles and was, traditionally, only served to those of the highest status at momentous occasions. It was served for dessert, layered with honey and cream, at weddings... and prepared with fierce spices for funeral meals.
Lord Evkit wore simpler clothing than he had earlier, a sober blend of dark cloth broken by a wide, pure white sash. A pale powder dusted across his face muted the swirling blue lines and gave him a thoroughly unsettling ghostly appearance. Allonin had no idea what that presentation meant, but it was definitely not intended to reassure.
Allonin ate with steady patience, noting how much of each dish Lord Evkit ate and doing his best to match pace and amount together. Lamb had been sent to the lower kitchen tables to eat with the other servants. Allonin devoutly hoped that the servants wouldn’t be looking to test the northern’s patience with unkind tricks.
At Aerthraim Fortress, a brawl would have been inevitable. Here, Allonin had no idea what to expect. He’d already given up on nearly all his ‘knowledge’ about the teyanain.
Servants whisked away the dishes as each one cleared. Soon enough Allonin and Lord Evkit each sat before a small cup of rich black tea; not coffee, thank the gods, but thopuh old and strong enough, as the saying went, to wake a ha’rethe from its final sleep.
Thinking of that homily didn’t amuse Allonin just now. He kept his hands spread out flat to either side of the cup, aiming his gaze politely to Evkit’s right hand, and waited to find out whether this was a tea ceremony or a simple drink.
Evkit sat very still for a time, his dark eyes half-shut as though considering. At last he smiled and said, “You have far more patience than most, Allonin of the Aerthraim. And you are far more perceptive as well.”
“Thank you, Lord Evkit.” Allonin kept his hands perfectly flat. “Your presence at this meal added perfection to the food. I am honored by your grace and by that of your kitchen staff.”
“I do not declare peh-tenez.” Evkit’s smile was fading. “I have many oaths already established, and have no room for another. If you wish to invoke such a ceremony, I must withdraw and place the conversation in the hands of my Teyantin.”
“I am more than honored to speak to you, Lord Evkit,” Allonin said. “If you don’t ask an oath of me, I see no reason to press for the formal structure of a peh-tenez.” He lifted one hand just enough to touch his teacup with a fingertip. “I suspect this is a drink of rare quality, and it would be a shame to distract from that with the unpleasantness of political negotiation.”
Lord Evkit nodded gravely. “You are well-trained, Allonin of the Aerthraim—especially considering that you are almost wholly self-taught in such matters. A most impressive achievement.” The pale mask brought his dark eyes into stark prominence and made his expression nearly impossible to read without inappropriately intent study.
They lifted their cups in precise synchrony, inhaled the aroma, and sipped with eyes politely cast aside, repeated the contemplative motions until each cup was nearly empty, then set the cups down once more. Allonin could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck with the strain of matching Lord Evkit’s movements so closely while not appearing to be staring directly at him. It made truly enjoying the tea hellishly difficult. But something of the deep, tarry aroma lingered in his nose, and the creamy aftertaste spread across the back of his tongue long enough to let him know that it had, indeed, been an exceptional drink.
Maybe one of these days he’d get to relax over something so fine. That, in his opinion, was real wealth.
Lord Evkit splayed his hands over the table to either side of the cup once more and met Allonin’s gaze. “Allonin of the Aerthraim,” he said gravely. “You have been a respectful guest, and have acted with the dignity and wisdom of a true Aerthraim. I thank you for the gift of your presence.”
Allonin managed—just—not to gape. What the hells, are we saying goodbyes already? He said, with care, “And you have been a considerate host, Lord Evkit—”
Evkit lifted one hand, shaking his head. “I was not finished.”
Oh, gods. “My deepest regrets,” Allonin said, bowing his head.
“Your former servant is currently giving my athain a great deal of valuable information,” Evkit went on. “He survived the cleansing process, but there is still too much darkness in him to allow him his freedom. All the same, I believe we can find a further use for him. Under our laws, I am in your debt for providing me with such a valuable resource. I would prefer to discharge this debt before you depart. Is there something you would ask or request of me?”
Allonin drew in a long breath, thinking fast. Unspoken limitations hung in the air. It was considered wiser, in this sort of situation, to ask for a smaller favor and leave the debt not wholly balanced. Evkit’s slight squint said, very plainly, that he knew of that longstanding custom, but Allonin couldn’t tell if the teyanain lord approved of it or not.
I should use the chance to spike the conflict with Water’s End. I should. It’s the politically smart thing to do. It’s within reason to ask for. It’s what he obviously expects. But—
His chest ached with abrupt pressure as his sister’s face rose in his memory.
I won’t get a chance to stand in front of Lord Evkit with leverage like this again in this lifetime. Might as well breach tradition and swallow the horse whole.
“The dearest concern of my heart right now is my sister’s well-being,” he said. It was a vague enough statement to leave Lord Evkit maneuvering room, and precise enough to narrow the direction the conversation would take from here.
“One must respect one’s heart,” Evkit replied blandly. His fingertips moved slightly, as though expressing a shiver of laughter the teyanain lord wouldn’t allow to show on his face. “Do you think your sister needs your help? What if you arrange to save her and find that you have only made matters worse?”
“It won’t be the first time,” Allonin said ruefully. “I can only do the best with the path I see before me, Lord Evkit. None of us are gods.”
Evkit’s head tilted to one side, an odd ferocity appearing in his eyes for a moment. Then his blank neutrality returned. He said, “So, then, what would you ask of me, Allonin of the Aerthraim? Information, or action?”
Allonin hesitated, wishing he could see Evkit’s face more clearly. The unemotional mask imposed by the makeup was beginning to aggravate him. He considered the question, abruptly wary. Peh-tenez hadn’t been declared. Anything and everything Evkit said could be a flat-out lie, from the first word to the last. He let his eyes slide half closed as he reviewed everything Evkit had said after the teacup had been set down with that last sip—Ah. Subtle. He picked up his cup, tossed back the last swallow, and returned it gently to the table gently, meeting Lord Evkit’s gaze with a pleasant smile.
Evkit sat motionless for a moment, then broke into a broad grin. “So,” he said. “You are wiser than at least one ha’ra’ha. Very good.” He picked up his own cup and drank the final swallow. “You may ask me for information, or for an action, Allonin of the Aerthraim. I may say no. I may say yes. I will not lie. I swear this on my father’s bones.”
Allonin nodded, rolling one shoulder in twitchy reflex against the sweat sticking his shirt to his back. “Whether it be information or action, I leave to your grace,” he said. “I want my sister safe, Lord Evkit. From Kallaisin, from the ha’reye, from whatever enemy aims harm at her for the rest of her life.” He realized his hands were balled into tight fists.
“That is a large request,” Evkit observed. “A larger request than the debt, perhaps.”
“I will take on debt, myself, to secure this,” Allonin said flatly, surprising himself with the raw honesty of the statement. “I will bow to your will, Lord Evkit, if you can protect my sister.”
“You would serve me,” Lord Evkit said, and yipped harsh laughter. “You would put yourself into my service. Willingly. Without restriction.”
Allonin bit the tip of his tongue to stop himself from answering hastily, sat quiet for several breaths while weighing various factors, then responded, “To protect my sister—yes, Lord Evkit. I would swear over to your service, if that’s what’s required.”
The teyanain lord’s eyes slid almost completely shut as he considered. “You go through ceremony,” he said finally. “You bind yourself, hanaa-aerst-yin, to serve until I say the debt is paid.”
Allonin sucked in a sharp breath. That was much more dangerous a condition than he’d expected. Lord Evkit held up a hand, his eyes still slitted, to indicate he wasn’t finished. Allonin kept his mouth shut with a tremendous effort.
“In return for that binding, you gain athain training.”
Allonin sucked in another breath, an entirely different shock running through him. He barely stopped himself from saying Are you insane? That would bring the entire southlands down on your head—and mine!
“Ah,” Allonin said, spreading his hands flat on the table again, and tried desperately to think through the shock. “Lord Evkit, that is an incredibly generous offer. I note, however, that we seem to be on the verge of exchanging promises. If I recall properly, you expressed reluctance to take on more oaths. I would not wish to cause you undue strain.”
Evkit’s amusement broke into an open smile. “You are much wiser than ha’ra’ha,” he said. “You, I want in my service. You, I will swear proper oath with.” He raised a hand. A servant ghosted to the table immediately, replacing empty cups with full, then retreated as silently.
Allonin sat frozen, caught between conflicting reactions that both contained far too much profanity to voice at the moment.
“And in return, your sister is considered under my protection,” Evkit added. He took a leisurely sip of his tea. Allonin copied the motion, barely aware of doing so. “I swear that for as long as I have the ability and power, I will keep her safe from any and all who aim harm her way, as long as she remains north of the Jungles and south of the Hackerwood, east of the Stone Islands and west of Obein.”
Allonin shut his eyes as he searched through the array of maps in his memory, checking scale and proportion. He couldn’t help whistling softly. “That’s extremely generous, Lord Evkit,” he said, raising his cup and taking a sip. “I’m honored. And in return I would be... bound... to your service until you choose to release me? Forgive me for saying that seems a touch open-ended.”
“You ask for a mountain, you pay in many boulders,” Evkit said dryly.
“Perhaps a set number of years,” Allonin suggested. “Ten years of service for ten years of protection, perhaps?”
“I would accept twenty for ten,” Evkit said. He took another sip of his tea. When he set the cup down, only one mouthful remained.
Allonin checked his own cup. Two mouthfuls remained. He bit the inside of his lower lip, gauging Lord Evkit’s expression against the bargain on the table.
“Forgive me while I take a moment to think this through out loud, Lord Evkit,” he said, fingers tense against the small cup until Evkit nodded slowly. “Under those terms, I would be bound to you very nearly as a desert lord is bound to a ha’rethe. That will cause a tremendous amount of distress amongst every desert Family, not least of all Aerthraim. There may be a protest, a Conclave, official sanctions. It would be an unprecedented breach of both the main Agreement and the many less official arrangements made to keep the peace over the years. Even Water’s End would be deeply offended. Your life will be greatly troubled by taking me on in this way.”
He paused. Evkit sat silent, expressionless, head cocked slightly to one side. Allonin searched his pale-powdered face for cues, for verification, for warnings, and found only bland patience. No reaction, not even to the bait about Water’s End. Damnit.
“My sister, if she is not known to be under your protection, will be used as leverage against me. If our arrangement is known, she will be at even higher risk as challenges to your authority are issued. I am having trouble balancing the various weights here, Lord Evkit.”
He hesitated, then picked up his cup and took a carefully measured sip, then set it down with the level matching that of Lord Evkit’s cup.
“Our arrangement will not be known,” Evkit said gravely. “I have some experience with obscuring such matters.” His mouth stretched into a smirk for a moment. “I do not require you to serve at my side, or in any publicly visible capacity. You merely need to remain in the southlands, north of the Jungles and south of Bright Bay. Water’s End will remain open to you.”
Evkit’s voice shifted on the last words, adding in an implicit offer to keep relations with Water’s End neutral if Allonin accepted. It was a gilt edge on a sharp blade.
He’s asking me to become a teyanain spy. Probably an assassin, too. With athain abilities. Dear gods. Allonin could almost hear his mother’s bones screaming and rattling in their kop. If anyone ever finds out about this, I’d be executed on the spot, along with Azni and anyone we might claim as allies, in case they’re secretly teyanain spies as well. Gods....
Having come this far in the discussion, though, there wasn’t much wiggle room remaining. Allonin wasn’t young enough to think Evkit would let him walk out after making an offer like that. Retreat had just, summarily, been cut off.
He let out a long breath and straightened his back, meeting Lord Evkit’s once more bland gaze steadily. “Under those conditions,” he said, “I ask fifteen for fifteen.”
The cup felt very cold in his hand as he raised it to his lips, never taking his gaze from Evkit’s face for more than the moment it took to toss back the last bit of liquid. His hand shook as he set the cup back down, his heartbeat pounding wild and mad in his ears.
After what seemed an eternity, Lord Evkit picked up his cup and drank the last swallow. “Under peh-tenez law,” he said, “I declare this agreement honorably sealed. Fifteen years of protection for your sister, in return for fifteen years of your service.”
Allonin’s vision swam grey with a mixture of relief and terror. “Honor to your grace, my lord,” he said, surprised at how steady his voice sounded.
Evkit’s mouth stretched into a slow, predatory smile. He raised a hand to his face, dragging a finger down the bridge of his nose, then along each cheek. The scraped-clear lines added an entirely new surreality to his appearance.
“Not yet,” he said. “I am your lord only after hanaa-aerst-yin ceremony. And that ceremony comes after you go through your blood trials to become one of my athain.”
“Blood trials?” Allonin said involuntarily. “But those are for—” He stopped, a bright sense of horror blooming throughout his chest.
Lord Evkit drew his thumbnail across his forehead, scoring a wide line in the powder, then again, and again, until his forehead was nearly clear of the mask but for three thin horizontal white lines. Allonin’s throat went dry as an acidic sense of danger filled the air.
