Sword and Verse (10 page)

Occasionally the gods turned their attention to the valley below. They saw how the mortals, weak and small, learned which of the plants and animals could be eaten without causing sickness, how they formed groups to protect one another. Mortal as well as godly deeds began to appear in the scrolls of the great library.

MATI AND I
didn't speak again about my past, or the promise he'd made to do what he could for the Arnathim, but the knowledge hung between us, binding us even more closely together. We stole away to the Library whenever we could; I couldn't have stayed away from him if I'd tried. He showed me another passage into the Library from behind a hidden door in a kitchen storeroom, so that I could sneak away from the Adytum and meet him there. No matter that it was dangerous—when I was in Mati's arms I didn't care if the entire King's Guard came crashing through the doors.

The sunny days of Lilana returned, bringing the Festival of Aqil again. The Trade Minister, Priasi Jin, raised eyebrows at court by bragging as much about his granddaughter playing Sotia as he did about the girl's older brother playing Aqil. Minister Jin didn't seem to care that she was a girl or that she was playing the displaced goddess. The pride in his voice when he spoke of her always made me smile.

The day after the pantomime, Mati met me in the Library at fourth bell, bearing a large honeycake. He swept me into his arms, declaring, “Today is the anniversary of our first kiss.”

“I thought that was yesterday.”

“The Festival of Aqil was when I realized I was in love with you. I didn't do something about it until after eighth bell.” He broke off a piece of cake and fed it to me. “This whole cake is for you,” he said. “Linti got her own.”

I kissed him. Though I had been seeing the packets of food he'd left under the stairs for the past year, this was the first time Mati had mentioned them.

I couldn't imagine ever loving him more.

We clung to each other that afternoon; Mati was leaving for a seven-day hunting trip with his father the next morning, and I knew that my days in the Adytum would be dull without him. At least I had my heart-verse to work on; as Mati had consumed more and more of my thoughts, I had spent less time on it than I should have, though I had now learned most of the higher order symbols.

When it was time to go, we scoured the carpet on hands and knees to pick up every crumb of cake—I was much better at this than Mati was—and shared one last kiss before I crept out through the kitchen storeroom and Mati left through the king's suite. I hurried toward the Adytum. I'd have to finish at least three pages before Laiyonea returned from the council meeting the king had asked her to attend, or she'd suspect something.

I was passing one of the smaller council rooms near the kitchens when a familiar screech cut the air. “This should have been done an hour ago!”

I hadn't heard it in over two years, but Emilana Kret's furious shout automatically made me scramble for a hiding place. I could guess the reason for the head servant's displeasure; that room's friezes were exceptionally detailed and held more than the usual amount of dust. Emilana had liked to press a white cloth into the tiniest crevices when we'd finished cleaning it; even a speck of dirt on the cloth meant no dinner for us. I'd lost more meals due to that chamber than the rest of the palace combined.

The corridor was still deserted. I crept closer to the door and peered in.

Emilana was shaking a white cloth covered in dust at a figure on the floor—Linti, looking dazed, as tiny at age eight as she'd been at six. Her white-blond hair fell in her face, but didn't disguise the red mark on her cheek where Emilana must have struck her. In the far corner, Naka and two other children I didn't recognize worked steadily, glancing uneasily at Emilana.

“It's the Stander for you tonight,” screeched Emilana. “But first you'll finish this room.”

My fear had turned to anger—how dare she treat Linti like that!—and I'd actually taken a step forward when I came to my senses. I was in a part of the palace where I was definitely not supposed to be. If I said the things to the Qilarite head servant that wanted to roll off my tongue—and I could picture with satisfying detail the expression on Emilana's face if I did say them—I could get myself banished, or worse. And I wouldn't help Linti at all.

In the time it took me to step back into the shadows, Emilana had hauled Linti up. Linti wobbled, and for the first time I had a clear view of her pale face and glassy eyes.

She's ill,
I realized. How like Emilana to miss that, or to notice and not care. Hot, sick fury swooped through my stomach, and I stood frozen behind the door as Emilana shoved Linti back toward the others.

Unable to watch any more, I fled to the Adytum, where I collapsed onto a bench and caught my breath. I couldn't have intervened, I told myself. I wasn't just protecting my own secrets anymore, but Mati's too—

I sat up straighter. Mati! Of course, I would tell Mati what I'd seen, and he would find a way to help Linti!

But no—Mati and his father were leaving early in the morning, and there would be no formal dinner tonight, as many of the councilors had gone to their country estates for the Lilana break. I wouldn't see Mati for seven long days, and even if I told him, what could he do? Sneaking food to Linti was one thing—and for all I knew, he had his valet do that for him. But if he tried to interfere with the running of the palace, his father would be furious.

There's nothing I can do. This is how the world is
, I thought. Besides, Linti was a tough little girl. Hadn't she and I hacked our way through a full Veiling of the coughing sickness when she was four years old? Sleeping beside her had felt like lying inside a firepit, but she'd come through it fine. Linti had been dealing with Emilana for years; the fact that I happened to witness this incident didn't make it any different.

Nevertheless, I couldn't sleep that night, picturing her leaning against the damp, dark walls of the Stander.

I worried about Linti nonstop, and didn't relax until I saw the children leaving the baths four days later. From a distance Linti seemed steady on her feet.

When Mati returned, I didn't mention it to him. What could he do? Besides, we didn't get to see each other much over the next two Shinings and Veilings, as the palace was consumed with preparations for Mati's eighteenth birthday celebration, his coming of age as heir to the throne.

At the ball, the viziers and ministers gave long speeches about how much Mati had grown, and what an inspiring king he would be one day. The eastern vizier did not come, however—I heard the War Minister tell Laiyonea that Emtiria's army had besieged our border city of Asuniaka.

“A minor matter,” the War Minister insisted. “The Emtirian army is made up of castoffs and escapees and tialiks. Their discipline won't last long.”

I flinched, but Laiyonea absorbed the casually dropped curse without blinking. I thought of waves pounding on stone, wearing it down bit by tiny bit.

So Emtiria was where the escaped slaves went. It made sense. Emtiria, the country just over the border, had no laws subjugating the Arnathim or anyone else. Indeed, from what Laiyonea had told me, Emtiria seemed to have few laws at all. But it was also desperately dangerous; the Emtirians believed in the pursuit of wealth above all else, and most would return an escaped slave for the reward without a second thought.

Later, Mati came to sit with us as the dancing started. He asked why Laiyonea hadn't given a speech. She shot him a
warning look, and for once, I understood why: though the king and several ministers regularly sought Laiyonea's counsel, our presence was tolerated at these events because of tradition. They would never allow an Arnath, even an Arnath Tutor, a voice at such a gathering.

Mati continued grinning at Laiyonea, refusing to take the hint. Her expression softened. “There wouldn't be a point,” she said. “No words could do you justice.”

Mati blushed, but soon he was joking with her again. He took my hand under the table and sketched a symbol into my palm. I didn't need to see it to know what it was; his love was right there in the touch. I looked around at the Qilarite girls with their straight black hair and colorful gowns, and felt superior.

We'd only managed to steal away to the Library twice since First Shining, and it was painful to let go of Mati's hand when he had to go join in the dancing. Laiyonea sent me to bed at seventh bell, and I fell asleep hoping for an unlikely rainstorm the following day.

The next morning, the sun blazed down defiantly. I glared at it—no trips to the Library today. Alone in the Adytum, I pored over my heart-verse once I'd finished the work Laiyonea had assigned me. I still hadn't found nine of the symbols in the language of the gods, and had yet to make sense of the eleven I
had
found.

Laiyonea and Mati were with the king—another boring negotiation, some treaty or other. When they finally joined me that afternoon, I squeezed Mati's fingers under the table; he squeezed back, his face blank for Laiyonea.

We were settling in to go over the lists of kings when Laiyonea said, “Pay attention, Mati. You won't have much time to study once Soraya arrives.”

Mati nodded and bent over his paper. I looked from him to Laiyonea. “Soraya Gamo?” I asked.

“Yes, Mati's betrothed,” Laiyonea replied. “She will arrive tomorrow for the betrothal ceremony and stay until their wedding at First Shining.”

The gods saw the mortals huddle together in the driving rains of Gyotia's anger, saw them starve when his wrath flooded the fields and shook the earth. The mortals cried out in anguish, and still the gods only watched.

I FELT AS
I had as a child, when my brother and I would jump in the waves on the beach, and one would knock me down.

Mati met my eyes, his expression puzzled. A thousand questions wanted to tumble out of me, but before any of them did, Laiyonea's voice cut through my thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head, and the lesson continued, though I was present only in body. Afterward, Laiyonea and Mati went to meet with the king again. Instead of cleaning the Adytum, I sat staring into space until the asotis' demanding cries roused me. I filled their bowls, but couldn't bring myself to pluck their feathers, not today. In the fading light, I shoved inkpots and quills into the cabinet and went to my bedroom.

The rational part of me knew that I had no right to be shocked or upset. Every moment with Mati had been stolen. I should have realized all along that he'd be promised to another. I sat on the floor against the bed, wishing fiercely that Mati were with me—only I wasn't sure whether I wanted to hold him or strike him.

And then, as if conjured from my longing, he was there at the window. As he dropped from the ledge to the floor, silhouetted against the twilight, it occurred to me that it was brave of him to come so early.

He eyed me warily, as though I were a snake that might lunge. To think, Mati afraid of me! As if I could hurt him the way he'd hurt me.

I swiped furiously at the traitorous tears leaking from my eyes. He crossed the room and knelt, touching my shoulder.

“Why didn't you tell me?” My voice was toneless.

“I thought you knew. I thought we just . . . weren't mentioning it. You had to realize that . . . well. Obviously not.” He gave a small laugh.

That laugh cut through me, transforming the emptiness in my stomach to a hard knot of anger. “I feel like a fool.”

Mati sighed. “Don't be like that. It had to happen sometime, and now I'm eighteen, and with all that's going on with Emtiria and the Resistance . . . the treasury needs Gamo's money, and Father thinks the people need a reason to celebrate.”

“Do you think she's pretty?” I choked out.

“I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “She's the daughter of the western vizier.”

I turned away. “Raisa,” he said, stroking my hair. I tried hard not to let his touch affect me. “Come on, nothing has to change.”

I gaped at him. How could he say that? I weighed my words carefully. “You'll be expected to produce an heir.”

“Yes,” he said, not seeming to realize why this bothered me.

All at once, he did, and he laughed. He
laughed
. He reached
for my hand, but I flinched and pulled away.

“Damn it, what do you want me to do?” he said. “Give up the throne and tend goats in the mountains? I've made plenty of sacrifices to be with you. What more do you want?”

What did he know about sacrifices? Several angry replies came to mind, but I bit them back. “I wish you could,” I said quietly.

“What?” he snapped.

“I wish you could tend goats,” I said. “It would make things easier.”

He stared at me. “Well, I don't. Look, when I'm king, I can do whatever I want. In the meantime, we keep it quiet.”

“Laiyonea suspects something.”

He sighed. “Of course she suspects something, the way you acted. Now I'll have to pay her more to keep her mouth shut.”

“What?”

Mati shook his head. “Laiyonea's known for a long time. You're not exactly the best at hiding your feelings.”

“And you are, I suppose,” I said nastily.

His face darkened. “When I have to be, yes.”

I thought of all the times he'd ignored me at banquets, all the times he'd looked right through me. How could he do that, if he felt the way I did?

He couldn't. And he couldn't ask me to share him—not if he truly loved me. I would never, ever ask such a thing of him.

“I think you should leave,” I whispered.

“Raisa—”

“Leave,” I told him.

“If you want me to, I will,” he said slowly. “But I'll come see you tomorrow before . . .”

I laughed bitterly. “Before Soraya arrives? Don't bother.” I looked into his eyes, then away. “Don't come back here. Don't find me alone. Don't come to see me anymore.”

Mati's brows drew together, and for the first time, I was slightly afraid of him. I had just told the crown prince of Qilara to stay away from me; how many ways could he have had me executed, if he wanted to?

But his face fell into a frown—sad, not frightening—and he nodded. He pulled me into his arms, and I curled up against his chest, my throat dry and burning. Mati squeezed my shoulders and kissed the top of my head, then gently pushed me away and stood.

He didn't look back as he went to the window and swung out onto the ledge.

I don't know how long I sat there staring at the wall. The sky was dark when I stood and slowly took off the stone that Mati had given me. I placed it at the bottom of a box of hairpins on my dressing table. I didn't want to see it anymore.