On Blue's waters (40 page)

The rain stopped in an instant, the way rain often does here. At one moment it was pouring. At the next the only drops that fell were those that trickled from the roofs of the shops around the market square. At that instant the inhuma slipped off the old cow’s back, and when her feet touched stone there was no inhuma. In her place stood a woman a little taller than Evensong, an emaciated woman with burning eyes whose hairless skull somehow conveyed the impression of lank reddish hair. I put my chain around her neck and snapped the lock, and for an instant felt something quite different.

I said, “You must be wondering why we released you.”

“No.” She looked down into the grave in which she had been imprisoned. “Don’t you want to fill that up before someone sees it?”

We did, and before the work was complete Evensong and I were ready to jump out of our skins when Mehman dropped his spade. I had intended to talk to the inhuma there, but had assumed that the rain would continue; it would have been madness to do it when the rain had stopped. After a little discussion we decided to go to Mehman’s cottage, at the farther end of my garden.

The cow made everything much more difficult; she was almost too weak to stand. Mehman would have left her where she was, but I would not hear of it, wanting nothing left behind that would draw attention to the spot. Our prisoner offered to return a little of the blood she had taken; but however deceived by her appearance I may have been, her eyes told me what she intended, and I would not permit it.

Eventually we got the cow into my garden, shut the gate, and let her lie down. This morning Mehman was to take her to the stables and tell the stableman that I have decided to take her in and care for her. It is a thing that pious people here do occasionally.

He and Evensong waited outside while I explained what I had learned from Krait on Green. I tapped the window when I had finished, and they came in again. “Will you do whatever we tell you, if I release you?” I asked the inhuma. “Or shall I make good on my threat?”

She said nothing in reply, her face buried in her hands-a naked, hairless, reptilian thing in woman’s shape, stripped for the moment of all her pride. Mehman and Evensong positioned their chairs a half step behind mine and sat in silence, watching her.

“I warn you, if you will not I am going to spread my knowledge everywhere. I will be believed, because I am ruler here.”

The face she lifted was a woman’s once more, beautiful and depraved. “What do you want from me?” Her eyes were green, or if they were not, they appeared so.

“You are quick.” I sat too, drew my sword, and laid it across my lap.

“I used to be. Tolerably so.” Her bony shoulders rose and fell, much narrower shoulders than Seawrack’s, and thinner than hers had ever been. Skeletal.

Mehman stood, having remembered his duties as host. “You will honor me by drinking tea, Rajan?”

Seeing that it would please him, I nodded and asked him to bring me a bowl of warm water, soap, and a clean towel as well.

“Tea for the rani?” He bowed to Evensong; when I was newly come it never occurred to me that my wives would be awarded the title of the ruler of Trivigaunte.

Evensong nodded and smiled, and Mehman bowed again and bustled away.

“I’d ask you how long you were in the ground under that stone, if I thought you knew,” I told our prisoner, “but I don’t see how you could.”

She shook her head. “Years, I think.”

“So do I. Is your word good?”

“Freely given to you? Yes.”

“Then give me your word that you will do exactly as I order you.”

She shook her head more vigorously, so much so that the chain clanked and rattled. “It would be worth nothing at all as long as I have to wear this. Take it away, and my oath will bind me.”

I got out the key, but Evensong caught my hand.

The inhuma began, “You were surprised that I didn’t want to know why you had-had…”

Her emotion may have been feigned, although I doubt it.

“I wasn’t free. You had locked this thing around my neck. Take it away.”

Motioning for Evensong to remain where she was, I did.

“I will obey you in all things, Rajan,” the inhuma declared. She rubbed her neck as if the chain had chafed it, and although they were faint I could see scales where pores should have been. I glanced at the window, and found that it was gray now instead of black.

I said, “You give me your word for that?”

“Yes.” Even knowing that her empty jade eyes and hollow cheeks were more than half illusion, I pitied the face I saw. “You have my word, unless you command me to go back into that place of living death.”

“I won’t. And when you have completed the task I’ll give you, I’m going to let you go.”

Evensong made a little sound of displeasure. “I don’t like it either,” I said, “but what else can I do? Kill her after she’s fought for us?”

The inhuma made me a seated bow that may or may not have been mockery.

Because I thought it would be better to wait for Mehman to return, I said, “It’s just occurred to me that you inhumi are rather like a kind of lizard I’ve noticed in my garden. It can change colors, and because of its size and shape, and because it remains so still, it is easy to take one for a piece of brown bark, or a green leaf, or even the flesh-colored petal of a rose. While I acknowledge that you inhumi are a much higher form of life, it seems to me that the principle is about the same.”

I expected her to say that we three were merely large monkeys without tails (as Krait would have), which would have been at least as just; but she only nodded. “You are correct, Rajan.”

Evensong said, “Pehla showed me one of those. They catch insects with their tongues.”

The inhuma nodded as before. “We do the same, rani. You haven’t asked my name, or given me yours.”

Evensong introduced herself. I explained to her that I had not inquired about the inhuma’s name because I knew that any name she gave us would be false, at which the inhuma said, “Then my name in this town of yours shall be False. Is that how you say it?” Mehman came in just then with my water, soap, and towel. “I have no tray, Rajan. I am shamed.”

“I am shamed, not you,” I told him. “I ought to have paid you better, and I will. I’ll give you a tray, too. This inhuma would like us to call her by a name that means false or lying. Something like that. What would it be?”

“Jahlee.”

“Thank you. Jahlee, this man is Mehman. Mehman, we will call this evil woman Jahlee, as you suggest.”

He bowed to her.

“Jahlee,” I said, “you are not to harm Mehman or any of his people.”

“I am your slave.”

“Look at him carefully. Neither Evensong nor I are typical of the mass of people here, but he is. He is a typical citizen of our town, tall and dark, with a nose, eyes, mouth, and so on quite a bit like mine.”

“I have seen others, Rajan.”

“Good. These are my people. Under no circumstances whatsoever are you to harm any of them. If you do, you know what I will do.”

“I do, Rajan. But I must live.”

“You must do more, as we both understand. I’m about to get to that.”

Evensong said, “Suppose another inhuma comes here and hurts someone. We might think it was her.”

“We might indeed. Because we might she will warn the other inhumi to keep away, if she is wise. Jahlee, Evensong is from a different town, a foreign town called Han, with which our own town is at war. She is a young woman of Han, more attractive than most.”

The starved and empty eyes fastened upon Evensong’s face. “I understand, Rajan.”

“You are not to attack the common people of Han, or of any other town. You may attack any and all of the troopers fighting against us, however. They are fair game for you.”

Jahlee started to object, but fell silent.

“There are more than enough for you. You may also attack their animals, if you wish.”

She shook her head. “That is most gracious, Rajan. But I will not.”

“Sarcasm will win you no friends here.”

“Is it possible for me to win friends, Rajan?”

“Not like that. Will you attack the troopers from Han, as I have suggested?”

“I am your slave. But it would be better if I had clothes.” With both hands, she smoothed her starved body, a body that appeared wholly human. “A wig or headdress of some sort, too. Powder, rouge, and scent.”

I glanced at Evensong, who nodded and hurried out.

“A few gauds, Rajan, if it’s not asking too much.”

“She will think of that, I’m sure. She’s an intelligent young woman.”

Mehman re-entered with a steaming teapot and two cups, and I assured him that Evensong would be back soon.

“There is more,” I told Jahlee. Rinsing my fingers for the third time, I sipped tea and nodded my appreciation to Mehman.

“More duties, Rajan? For me?” Her voice had become breathlessly feminine.

“You might say so. Are you aware that there are other inhumi entombed here as you were?”

“No.” For a moment the empty eyes flashed fire. “You torture us as we never torture you.”

“There are, and I know where they are buried. Han’s our enemy, but only Han’s troops. You understand that.”

Mehman brought in a fragrant cup for himself and another for Jahlee, and I motioned for him to sit down.

Jahlee asked, “Do you intend to dig them up to fight for us, Most Merciful Rajan?”

“I may. In addition to preying upon those troops, I want you to do whatever may occur to you to weaken and discomfort them. Knowing the cunning of your race, I leave the nature of those things entirely to you. You may do whatever seems good to you, as long as it doesn’t harm us.”

“I understand, Rajan.”

“When you have done something sufficiently impressive that you feel that word of it is bound to reach me, return here. My palace is in the same garden as this cottage. If it’s a court day, come to court. If it isn’t, ask for Evensong, who is also called Chota.”

“Your servants may detect me, Rajan.”

“See that they do not. If what you have done really is a major stroke, you and I, with Mehman here and Evensong, will rescue a second member of your race just as the three of us rescued you, and on the same conditions. He or she will be sent against the Horde of Han exactly as you are being sent. When either of you achieves a major success, a third will be rescued. And so on.”

“If you win your war, you will release me from my promise?”; Her expression was guarded.

“Exactly.”

“Will you rescue the rest of us who are still in the living graves then?”

“No.” I shook my head. “But I will tell you-and the others who have been freed-where they are. You may free them yourselves, if you wish.”

Slowly, she nodded.

Soon after that, Evensong returned. She had a crimson silk gown over one arm and was carrying two elaborately inlaid boxes. “There are shoes in here,” she told Jahlee, handing her one, “and a good ivory bracelet and my second-best ivory ring. Women in Han don’t wear a lot of brass bangles the way women do here.”

“Scent,” Jahlee whispered. “I must have scent.” She opened the box and took out a fanciful bottle.

“That’s not the good perfume you gave me,” Evensong told me. “It’s what they gave me in Han when they sent me here.” As she spoke, a heavy, spicy fragrance filled the room. “You don’t need that much,” she cautioned Jahlee.

Jahlee laughed then, laughter so dark and exulting that I wondered whether I had not made a serious mistake when I had decided to undertake this experiment after weeks of worry and indecision.

“Here’s a woman’s traveling hat.” Evensong opened the other box and took it out. It was wide and flat, rather like an oversized saucer or a wide soup bowl of tightly plaited white straw turned upside down.

There was a knock at the door; Mehman looked to me for guidance, and I asked whether he was expecting company.

“My daughter and her little boy.”

“Put on that gown and go,” I told Jahlee. “You know what you are to do.”

Stepping swiftly into the shoes, she pulled it over her head. “Night would be better.”

“Most people are still asleep.” I turned to Evensong. “Will you give her that box to keep the cosmetics in?”

She nodded.

Mehman’s daughter knocked again, and I told Mehman to admit them, adding to Jahlee, “When they come in, you are to leave immediately.”

She did, favoring the humble woman and her little son with a flashing smile in which no actual teeth were to be seen, and running across the soft green grass with one hand clapped to the traveling hat and Evensong’s gown flowing and floating around her.

Mehman made obeisance. “My daughter Zeehra, Rajan. My grandson Lal.”

His daughter looked askance at Evensong and me, plainly dressed and soaked to the skin, before bowing almost to the ground.

“The rani and I were discussing an expansion of the herb beds with your father when we were caught in the rain,” I explained.

Little Lal started to speak, but was hushed at once by his mother.

“We are about to return to the palace,” I continued, “but there is something of importance I must tell you first. Your father will confirm what I say after I leave, I feel certain. The woman whom I dismissed as you came in is not to be trusted. I would not wish you to think, because you saw her with my wife and me, that she is someone I trust, someone to whom you ought to defer.”

Evensong surprised me by saying, “She is a thief and worse than a thief.”

“Exactly.” I stood. “The two-hands spider kills our rats, but it remains a spider.”

“You’re the Decider,” little Lal burst out. “The other people talk and talk, then you decide.”

“I am,” I told him, “but I can’t decide everything. You must decide whether to obey your mother, for example-and accept the consequences if you don’t. What would you do, Lal, if that woman in the red gown came to your door?”

“I wouldn’t let her in,” he declared stoutly.

“Very good,” I said. “In time you may be an important and respected man like your grandfather.”

* * *

That was four days ago. Jahlee may have been active. I hope so, but I have heard nothing.

My wound seems worse, Evensong says from the rain but I think it is actually from the strain of lifting that big flagstone in the market. Maybe it is for the best that we have no news about Jahlee.