The Daylight War (66 page)

But who could be
zahven
to Ahmann? He had no brothers or even cousins of blood, and his
ajin’pal
was Hasik, someone Ahmann had already met. Was there another Deliverer in the making? A challenger? Or was he to meet Nie’s representative on Ala? It was Waning, when the
alagai
were strongest, and Alagai Ka was said to rise from the seventh layer of the abyss. Was the prince of demons to come to the Maze this night?

Inevera breathed deeply, letting the fear and anxiety blow over her like wind, maintaining serenity.

But even safe within her breath, another part of the foretelling continued to niggle her. What voice from Ahmann’s past, and why did she not know of it?

The
past
calls
when
its
debts
are
due
,
the Evejah’ting taught. Inevera remembered the night Soli and Kasaad had entered the
dama’ting
pavilion, and could not disagree.

It was just before dawn on the first day of Waning, when debts were paid and oaths fulfilled.
Sharum
would be sent home with their wages, and sons released from
sharaj
to see their families.

Inevera put the dice away, breathing until she had her centre, then stood smoothly and went to the pillow chamber where Ahmann slept. Most nights he returned to the palace once the Maze was free of
alagai
– usually still hours before dawn. He would sleep until the sun was high, rising at noon to begin his day.

But on Wanings, he rose at dawn, that he might have as much time as possible with his sons.

She slipped from her robes and crawled into the pillows to wake him.

Inevera leaned against a marble pillar, watching Ahmann with Jayan and Asome. The elder boys were closest to their father, and he stood with them in the centre of the room before a practice dummy hanging suspended in the air, giving them lessons in spearwork and
sharusahk
.

Her sister-wives were in attendance of course, along with their sons, who knelt in a ring around the room, a small army in and of themselves. Inevera had taken to calling the
Jiwah
Sen
her ‘little sisters’, much as Kenevah had with her. The diminutive did not please them – women in line to hold sway over their respective tribes – but none dared protest its use. It was Waning, and Ahmann would give each of his wives and sons his attention in turn before the great meal.

‘One day,
I
will be Sharum Ka!’ Jayan shouted, thrusting his spear at the practice dummy.

Inevera looked sadly at her firstborn, now twelve. He had been bright, once. Not clever like his brother Asome, but inquisitive enough. Three years in
sharaj
had burned the brightness from his eyes, leaving him with the dead look of all
Sharum
– that of a brutal, unthinking animal. One that looked upon life and death and saw more value in the latter. Jayan was first in his class at fighting, but struggled with simple sums and texts that Asome, a year his junior, had advanced beyond years since. He was more apt to wipe himself with paper than read the words upon it.

She sighed. If only Ahmann had let her put him among the
dama
,
but no, he wanted
Sharum
sons. Only second sons were allowed to take the white. The rest were sent to
sharaj
.

But as she watched Ahmann with the boys and saw the love in his eyes, she could not fault him.

As if reading her mind, Ahmann turned and met her gaze. ‘It would please me if my daughters could return home for Waning each month, as well.’

You
would
spend
them
like
spare
coin
on
men
not
worthy
of
them
,
Inevera thought, but gave only a slight shake of her head. ‘Their training must not be disturbed, husband. The
Hannu
Pash
of the
nie’dama’ting
is … rigorous.’ Indeed, she had been training them since birth.

‘Surely they cannot all become
dama’ting
,
’ Ahmann said. ‘I must have daughters to marry to my loyal men.’

‘And so you shall,’ Inevera replied. ‘Daughters no man dare harm, who are loyal to you over even their husbands.’

‘And to Everam, over even their father,’ Ahmann muttered.

And
to
you, most of all
,
she heard Kenevah say. ‘Of course.’

There was a stirring of the guard, and Ashan came into the room.
As personal
dama
to the Sharum Ka, he was seldom seen on Wanings, off giving services and blessings. Asukaji entered with him, and the boy immediately went to stand beside Asome. They looked more like brothers than cousins, far more similar than Asome and Jayan.

Ashan bowed. ‘Sharum Ka, there is a matter the
kai’Sharum
wish you to settle.’

Inevera felt every muscle in her body clench.
This
is
it.

Ahmann raised an eyebrow as she rose to accompany him, but he made no move to stop her – not that he could have. They left the palace and descended the great stone stairs to the courtyard, which faced the
Sharum
training grounds. At the far end was Sharik Hora, and on the long sides between were the pavilions of the tribes.

Near the base of his steps, well inside the palace walls, a group of
Sharum
and
dama
surrounded two men. One was
khaffit
,
grossly fat and dressed in brighter silks than a pillow wife. He wore the tan vest and cap of
khaffit
,
but his shirt and pantaloons were of bright multicoloured silk, and the cap was wrapped in a turban of red silk with a gem set at the centre. His belt and slippers were of snakeskin. He leaned on an ivory crutch, carved in the likeness of a camel, with his armpit resting between its humps.

The other was a Northern
chin
,
dressed in worn clothes faded and dusty enough to be taken for a
khaffit
’s tan, but he carried a spear, something
khaffit
were forbidden to touch, and had nothing of the deference any sane
khaffit
would have when surrounded by so many warriors. A Messenger from the green lands. Inevera had seen them in the bazaar, but never spoken to one.

Inevera watched Ahmann, seeing recognition in his eyes as they took in the
khaffit
.

The voice from his past.

Inevera looked closer, studying the man’s face. She had to look past the thick jowls and cast back years, but at last recalled the boy who had carried Ahmann to the
dama’ting
pavilion all those years ago. A boy who had visited the pavilion himself years later, and left with a limp the
dama’ting
were not sure would ever heal. Abban, son of Chabin, the merchant who used to sell couzi to her father. That was reason enough to dislike him.

‘What makes you think you are worthy to stand here among men?’ Ahmann demanded. The anger in his tone surprised her. Perhaps the debt of his past was to be collected, rather than paid. Why else would a
khaffit
come to the First Warrior’s palace and risk his wrath?

‘Apologies, great one.’ Abban dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead into the dirt.

‘Look at you,’ Ahmann snarled. ‘You dress like a woman and flaunt your tainted wealth as if it is not an insult to everything we believe. I should have let you fall.’

Fall?
Inevera wondered.

‘Please, great master,’ Abban said. ‘I mean no insult. I am only here to translate.’

‘Translate?’ Ahmann glanced up and noticed the Northerner for the first time. ‘A
chin
?’ Ahmann turned to Ashan. ‘You called me here to speak to a
chin
?’

‘Listen to his words,’ Ashan urged. ‘You will see.’

Ahmann studied the greenlander a long time, then shrugged. ‘Speak, and be quick about it,’ he told Abban. ‘Your presence offends me.’

‘This is Arlen asu Jeph am’Bales am’Brook,’ Abban said, gesturing to the Messenger. ‘Late out of Fort Rizon to the north, he brings you greetings, and begs to fight alongside the men of Krasia tonight in
alagai’sharak
.’

Ahmann gasped, and Inevera, too, felt a wave of shock. A Northerner who wished to fight was like a fish asking to swim in hot sand.

The men began to argue over whether the man’s wish should be granted, but Inevera ignored them. ‘Husband,’ she said quietly, touching Ahmann’s arm. ‘If the
chin
wishes to stand in the Maze like a
Sharum
,
then he must have a foretelling.’

Inevera led the greenlander to a casting chamber. Ahmann insisted on accompanying her, and she could think of no easy way to deny him. He was naïve at times, but her husband was no fool. He sensed her interest in the man, and if the Northerner were indeed his
zahven
,
he could likely sense that, too.

‘Hold out your arm, Arlen, son of Jeph,’ he told the Northerner when she drew her knife. The
chin
frowned but didn’t hesitate to roll up his sleeve and hold out his arm.

Brave
,
Inevera thought as she made the cut. The dice seemed to hum in her hands as she shook and threw.

A chill ran down her spine as she read the result.

No …

She pressed her thumb into the
chin
’s wound. He grunted but did not resist. Inevera wet the dice afresh and threw them again.

And a third time.

The fate of Arlen asu Jeph am’Bales am’Brook spread out before her, the same on the third throw as it had on the first. Inevera had cast the bones for countless warriors, but never since Ahmann had she seen the like.

Could
he
be
the
Deliverer?
She glanced at the greenlander. He was not much to look at, neither short nor tall, his hair the colour of sand and his face bare like a
khaffit
. He wasn’t uncomely, but neither was he as handsome as Ahmann.

But his eyes were hard like her husband’s, and the same potentials buzzed around him like insects drawn to a lamp – futures where men called him Deliverer, where he was martyred, or died alone, or failed, driving humanity into extinction.

If
only
I
could
take
husbands
like
Ahmann
takes
wives.
Her mind ran through the possibilities, but in the end it was impossible. Her powers were not infinite, and even a
dama’ting
could not take two mortal husbands. Just one pushed the boundaries. This greenlander, for all his potential, could not be the leader her people followed, and there could not be two such men, north and south. The land was not big enough for both. They would tear it asunder, losing Sharak Ka in the process.

And
so
it
must
be
Ahmann.

‘He can fight.’ She put away her dice and daubed the cut, soaking up the welling blood. She administered a salve and bound the
chin
’s wound with fresh cloth, pocketing the bloody one.

Ahmann and the
chin
left the chamber immediately, and she could hear her husband shouting orders in the hall. She knelt and drew her dice once more, squeezing the bloody cloth over them.

‘How can Ahmann take the son of Jeph’s power for his own?’ she asked as she threw.

– When the
zahven
finds power, he will share the secret with his true friends, but die before giving it up.—

Inevera quickly scooped the dice back into the pouch, getting to her feet and exiting the casting chamber. Ahmann was down the hall, about to leave for the training grounds. She caught his arm.