Doom's Break (11 page)

The mot scrutinized the envelope carefully. "It is addressed to the great Toshak."

"It is. He is a friend of mine as well. He once worked in my troupe of acrobats. He was the sword fighter."

His eyes widened. "Truly, you are a well-connected mor..."

"Fortune has forced this on me. I would prefer to still be earning my living tumbling in the villages of Tamf and Dronned. It was a good life, and I loved it."

There was further discussion.

One voice, that of a brilby with prominent eyebrow tufts, arose in dissent. The spokesmot turned back to her.

"The message will be sent to the South at once. Jilba here thinks you should be sent to the Assenzi at Highnoth. What do you say?"

"I will see the Assenzi soon enough, I'm sure," she said. "But first I must escort the Great King south. I must be there when he and Toshak meet. It is vital that they be able to work together. I can help them, because I have learned the language of the men."

The mot was incredulous. "Are you saying that you want to go back to that ship?"

"I have been treated well on that ship. Yes, I want to go back, and I hope I can take back some food with me. We have been at sea for a long time, and our rations are running low."

The mots and brilbies drew back with a collective hiss. "You want us to give them food?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but yes. You must understand that the Great King is our best chance of ending this war without further bloodshed."

For a long moment the crowd stared at her, then at each other. At last, the spokesmot turned back to Nuza.

"It is fell chance that brought you here. None of us would wish it known that we had given aid to the enemy. But you pose us a difficult choice. How can we turn down an opportunity to help bring about an early peace?"

And so, when Nuza returned to the jetty an hour later, a cart was driven up behind her and casks of flour, jars of oil, and cartons of cheese were set down there. The mots and brilbies would come no closer than ten yards, though, and remained nervous.

Kunkus and the other men rolled the barrels across and lowered them down to the boat. A few minutes later, they pushed off from the jetty and, now heavily laden, with Nuza in the prow, rowed back to the ship.

Nuza could not fail to notice one striking change about the city of Dronned. A pall of smoke hung over the city, rising from newly built iron foundries. When she looked more closely, she observed that large new buildings had arisen, too, though whether they housed forges or their workers it was impossible to tell.

Standing near the top of the tall sand dunes that lined the bay south of the city, she was able to overlook the city walls, about two miles north. The bloody battle of Dronned, in the first summer of the war, had been fought right there, on the flat plain that lay between the dunes and the wall.

Which made it an oddly fitting place for this meeting. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Toshak was waiting nearby. She knew that her role in this was small but essential. She was the only person in the world who knew both of these huge, masculine personalities. She was the only one who could keep them from butting heads at this all-important encounter.

Just ahead of her, Aeswiren climbed the slope, and just behind her came the heavy tread of Klek, the bodyguard. There were just the three of them, the agreed number. Their boat, with six rowers, had remained behind at the water's edge.

One reason for such a small meeting was that Filek Biswas, the former chief surgeon of the fleet, and a genius of medicine, had begged the Emperor to keep all contact with mots, brilbies, and other folk of the Land to a minimum. He was convinced they were the source of the plague that had slain one in three of the Shasht colony.

Aeswiren had heeded the good doctor's warning, of course. In coming here alone, Aeswiren had accepted the risk that the mots might take him prisoner. Nuza said that General Toshak's word could be trusted, but Aeswiren knew that the exigencies of war could overwhelm the best intentions. Aeswiren had taken the risk, nonetheless. The gains were too great to be missed, and at this point in the game Aeswiren needed information that only this General Toshak could give him.

Besides that, Aeswiren wanted to meet this mysterious figure from Nuza's life. Aeswiren had heard much of him from Nuza, enough to know something of their history together. He wanted to put a face to the picture her words had painted.

When they were a few feet short of the dune's crest, Klek halted. Aeswiren and Nuza went on, carrying no weapons. Ahead, alone, waited a figure clad in a blue jacket with three red pins on one shoulder. The general wore no helmet nor a sword, but he radiated a sense of authority. The face was leaner than that of Nuza, harder, with deeper cheekbones and a gaunt fierceness to the eyes that Aeswiren noticed at once. Where Nuza was a dove, this mot was a hawk.

As they drew close, the mot opened his arms, stepped forward, and hugged Nuza, lifting her off the ground.

"Nuza! Nuza! Nuza!" he called out, swinging her around in complete abandon. Aeswiren gave Klek a look over his shoulder. General Toshak was obviously a character. Here was the Emperor himself, and the general was ignoring him.

"Nuza, my dearest, I thought I'd never see your face again."

Toshak crushed her in his grip.

"Toshak," she murmured, pushing him back slightly, concerned about Aeswiren's feelings. It was vital that this meeting went well. Jealousy could cloud things, ruining the clarity that they needed to have.

"Toshak," she said again. "Here, you must meet the Great King. You must not be rude to him; he is a great man."

"Bah," snorted Toshak, still holding her tightly.

"Toshak, listen. The Great King, he is a good man. You must talk with him. You can make peace."

Toshak didn't seem to hear her. "I have never heard a man described as 'good' before this. They are killers, hungry for the flesh of our children. They leave us nothing but piles of heads."

Nuza recalled the horror of that day in Bilauk. "I know, I know all that. But, Toshak, this man is different. He offers us a chance for peace. We must seize it."

Something cold and dangerous gleamed in his eyes for a moment. She saw how wide was the abyss that had opened between them. She and he, who had once been lovers, were now almost strangers, separated by her exile to Shasht and the war he had waged in the Land. He studied her with chilly precision, then relented.

"Yes, yes, dear Nuza, I know."

His shoulders sagged, as if a great tension went out of him.

"Toshak, dearest, you have saved the Land."

"No, dear Nuza, the Land is not yet saved. The men still threaten us. They still hold forts on the coast of Sulmo."

"That is why I am here to interpret. The Great King has been learning our language. Speak slowly to him, and he will understand most of what you say."

Toshak struggled with something, but could not say it. Instead, he turned to Aeswiren, who had waited patiently while Nuza and this fierce-looking mot had hugged and babbled at a speed far past the Emperor's ability to comprehend.

Nuza watched the two of them as they studied each other at close range. The man was the taller by an inch and heavier, too, but she doubted that would help him in a fight with Toshak. She knew all too well that Toshak was a master of the sword and all other edged weapons. For years he had been the swordsmot of her troupe of acrobats, jugglers, and entertainers. And yet there was something very similar about both of them, mot and man. They were leaders, steeped in the ways of war.

"General," said Aeswiren, using the language of the Land.

Toshak's eyebrows rose at hearing that tongue from the mouth of a man. Nuza had taught this one well. "Great King. You will have to pardon me, I cannot help my feelings. I find it hard to offer any man a welcome to the Land. We have suffered nothing but horror from men."

Toshak spoke too quickly, however, for Aeswiren to understand. Confused, the Emperor looked to Nuza. She translated into Shashti.

"General Toshak says that it is a difficult moment for him. There is great emotion, great pain from our losses."

Aeswiren nodded slowly, then spoke in the tongue of the Land. "I know. I wish to end all of that."

Toshak blinked on hearing these words. Some of the fury that burned in him turned to curiosity.

"Those are the best words I have heard in a long time. I give thanks to the Spirit." This time he had spoken much more slowly. Aeswiren nodded to show he understood, then replied, "How much do you know of the situation?"

"Which situation? On Mauste?"

Aeswiren shot a glance to Nuza at hearing this name.

"Lord," said Nuza, "Mauste is our name for the island where the fleet has set up its base."

"Ah, yes, that situation, too, but I refer to the larger scene involving myself."

Toshak looked to Nuza. She had seen him react to her use of the men's tongue. Now he heard Aeswiren's words and wondered at them.

"What does this mean, dearest Nuza?"

She gathered herself. Toshak must know the whole truth.

"The Great King is in exile himself. He has been overthrown. They tried to kill him, but he survived, and he still has the power to end the war. He has come here to take control of the expedition army, then take it back to Shasht and defeat his enemies with it."

There was a long moment of silence as Toshak absorbed this. He had suspected as much when he'd received Nuza's message.

"Well," he said dryly, "that rather reduces his value to us, but, better he is here late than that he never came at all to visit the scene of carnage his forces have unleashed."

Aeswiren understood enough of this to know it was time to keep his silence. Toshak must make up his own mind. The anger was to be expected.

Toshak had balled his fists so tightly, the muscles stood out on his neck. He stared upward as if seeking some advice from the heavens, or a whisper from the Spirit. Nuza watched him, not knowing whether he would accept Aeswiren's offer.

At last he relaxed and, with no further ado, took the Emperor's hand in his and they shook, brown-skinned hand of man and the grey-furred hand of mot. Nuza saw Aeswiren's eyes tighten as Toshak revealed his strength.

"Welcome, then, Great King," said Toshak, speaking slowly. "For I have just now learned that you are a fugitive and in need of shelter."

Aeswiren cast a sharp glance in Nuza's direction. She saw that he had realized that his ability to manipulate the situation was limited by his need for her to translate. That he was a deposed fugitive was information he would rather not have had Toshak know just yet.

"Thank you, General Toshak. I do not intend to trouble you more than is absolutely necessary. The men in my army will listen to me. I am confident of that. They will give me a hearing, and then I think they will rally to my cause."

"What will you offer them?"

Aeswiren's face creased into a grim smile. "Years of suffering, toil, bloodshed. War, in a word, but in the end the opportunity to overthrow the priesthood and change Shasht forever."

Toshak blinked, then glanced at Nuza.

Aeswiren continued. "I will offer them a war of liberation. I have learned a great secret, which I shall pass on to them."

Toshak looked to Nuza once more to be sure he was hearing this correctly. "Secret?"

"Yes, please listen to him, dear Toshak."

Aeswiren now spoke passionately, and when he stumbled, Nuza helped the words along.

"Once our land was almost as lush as yours. Our peoples were mostly peaceful. There were wars, but they were small in scale. Our population was stable, and we had both gods and goddesses. Our lives were governed by the round of festivals in their name and the liturgy of their worship.

"Then came the Empire. A man named Kadawak arose in the Old Kingdom of Shasht. At first he was but an officer of the small army kept by the royal house. He usurped the throne and began a war that lasted ten years. When it ended, he became the First Emperor. In the city he erected a pyramid to the new god, He Who Eats, Orbazt Subuus.

"He changed many things. Women could no longer go forth in the street. They lost all rights and became chattels of their husbands. Thousands of prisoners of war and captive women were used as breeding stock for slaves. Slaves became cheap. It was a popular policy."

Nuza observed that Toshak frowned at hearing of such evil.

"We do not have this thing, slavery, that you speak of."

"I know. Nuza told me."

And there it lay, the polar difference between the world of Shasht and that of the Land. To exploit one's fellow beings in such a way was unworthy, degrading to both sides of the division.

Toshak gave her another sharp look. She knew he was wondering about the relationship that had grown up between the Emperor and herself.

"The real problem, alas, was that the increase in slavery was popular with certain social classes among the population. Common property was seized under the law. Old traditions were overthrown and women enslaved. On the altars of the temple to He Who Eats, they began to tear open men and rip out their hearts to offer to the Great God."

Nuza shivered, just listening to Aeswiren describe all this. She saw that Toshak winced before replying.

"We have learned of this from men taken prisoner. They tell us of your so-called 'Great God' who demands fresh hearts from his worshippers. Your world seems to have nothing but ugliness and horror. Bare land, poverty and starvation, endless war and slavery."

There was a long moment of silence. Aeswiren, just in sailing this coast, had seen the differences between the two lands. This world was verdant, alive with life, lush with great forests, and already peopled. Shasht was a dry husk.

"Yes," Aeswiren admitted. "However, many live in luxury, especially in the cities, and they have gained great wealth. They support the Empire and the priesthood.

"But what they don't know, what nobody knows except the Emperors and a tiny group among the priesthood, is that there has always been a secret ruler, a hidden power that has ruled over all the Emperors since the beginning."