The Destiny of the Sword (35 page)

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Thana stepped through the arch and paused at the top of the steps to survey the busy, noisy courtyard hi its shadowing box of balconied walls. Swordsmen fencing, chanting sutras, arguing, singing, gambling... very nice! Men from bank to bank.

She glanced then at Jja, who was carrying a bundle and trying not to seem apprehensive. “Don’t worry! You’re Shonsu’s. Just mention that and you’ll have no trouble here.”

Jja smiled and nodded without much confidence. Thana herself was aware of uneasy shiverings deep down inside. Ever since Yok she had been unable to see landlubber swordsmen in groups without those shiverings. Yet she had been assured that these swordsmen were well behaved now, bound by the blood oath and by strict rules of behavior toward civilians. But did those rules mention swordswomen? Still, Jja was Shonsu’s and she was Nnanji’s and he was liege lord, too. How many knew that, though?

Some juniors passing by at the bottom of the steps had seen them and stopped to admire. They were grinning, thumbs in belts, balancing on one foot and stamping the other, which was a humorous sign of approval, reminiscent of bulls pawing the ground. They did not look dangerous. Rather fun. “Come on,” Thana said, and led the way down.

Wait by the steps, they had been told, and they would have had trouble doing otherwise, for soon the juniors were all around mem, grinning, kidding, making slyly obscene suggestions about lunging lessons and how about a trip on your ship. Virile young men, fit and smart—most of them—and supremely confident and pleased with themselves, for the Goddess had called them to Her tryst. Firsts and Seconds to start with, then Thirds edged them out. No, there was no harm, and much flattery. A couple of them were knockouts, quite scrumptious. It was harder for Jja, of course, who could not banter back, but Thana was aware that she herself was enjoying this, giving as good as she was getting. It made her realize again how very young Nnanji was for his rank.

She wondered how he’d made out. If he had failed, the one,year wait would kill him. He’d been unbearable.

Fanfare! Now what? The courtyard fell silent, faces turning toward the balcony where the trumpet was bellowing. The council was coming out—Shonsu, huge and looking very bleak, and right behind him was Nnanji. In a green kilt! He had made it! Jja grabbed Thana’s arm in excitement and whispered congratulations. They began to edge closer. Nnanji of the Sixth! Party tonight!

Then the others. No, not all—the old one was missing. And Katanji? How did he get hi there?

“Your honors, masters...” The squat chief herald had joined the notables and started to thunder his proclamation.

“Landlubbers!” Thana snarled in Jja’s ear. “They do love mis bilgey pomp, don’t they?”

Then the herald described the unmasking of Chinarama as a sorcerer. Thana jumped as an explosion of male booing burst out all around, but she and Jja joined in, grinning at each other and adding a treble note to the chorus.

They almost missed the next bit, but it was about Nnanji killing the spy; it sounded as if Shonsu had just had a narrow escape. Thana put an arm round Jja, who had turned pale.

“Sutra eleven thirty,nine... outstanding courage or swordsmanship in the presence of an enemy shall be just and sufficient cause for promotion...” She had been studying Nnanji’s grin, and everyone around her was talking—was that what she had heard? Seventh? Now Jja was hugging her, so it must be. She had done it! She’d always said she would.

Of course! Why had she ever doubted? Now it had actually happened, it felt quite inevitable.

“I’ve got one, too, Jja!” she said, and the slave woman nodded and laughed with her.

Much muttering around her.

“Never heard of that...”

“You mean he doesn’t have to prove it...”

“What about the sutras...”

“That’s a strip of rust...”

She studied die faces. The juniors were grinning and laughing, but the older men were scowling. Well, what would you expect?

Lord Nnanji? It sounded good! And now they were on about his brother—it was hard to hear and even harder to see, now, for the crowd was filling in, packing closer around them. Third? Well, trust Katanji!

A few voices started the chorus from the song about him and were glared into silence by the seniors. Now there was cheering. The councilors were going back inside.

Lord Nnanji!

She wanted to dance a hornpipe. Wait till Tom’o hears about this!

“Aw, come on! Just a quick look!” said a voice behind her, but she wasn’t paying attention. A tall Fourth with very well developed pectorals was asking her about Nnanji, and she was saying proudly that yes she was, and then Jja half squealed and half screamed, and Thana swung around and couldn’t find her in the crowd of bare male shoulders and sword hilts and ponytails. Then she saw that a couple of Seconds had pulled Jja’s wrap off and were tugging at the bundle she was holding in front of her. There was much laughter and some angry shouting, and Thana grabbed the Fourth and screamed that that was Shonsu’s slave and there would be hell—

Then there was hell.

Where Shonsu had come from, she didn’t know, but he came through the crowd as if it were long grass. There seemed to be bodies flying in all directions, and she was knocked down and rolled into a forest of legs and boots and a canopy of kilts. After a few kicks and stampings she was dragged to her feet and she began panicking her way toward the exit, fighting in a tumult of kilted men until she was carried backward by the current—and then Nnanji was there and he hugged her, and she clung to him.

His face was murderous. He began pulling her roughly back through the throng. He could see over the heads, but she could not; she hadn’t realized quite how tall he was. She caught glimpses of Shonsu looming over the others as she and her husband pushed through the crowd, moving toward him slowly, for Nnanji might have top rank now, but what was needed here was beef and weight—although he was doing all right. And then they arrived at the edge of a clearing.

The two Seconds were kneeling there and Shonsu was blazing

in the middle. Blazing! It was me only word she could think of. She had never seen a fury like that—he was a giant, rampant. He glanced at someone in her direction, and his eyes were red. Impossible! He was roaring and he had his sword out, the Cbioxin sword, and all around him there was emptiness surrounded by an army of cowering men. The other Sevenths were there, but they weren’t speaking except when Shonsu spoke to them. He turned again in her direction and no, his eyes were not red, but... Then the two kneeling Seconds bent their heads forward, and the seventh sword arced and flashed with an audible hiss, and she screamed, thinking that the boys were going to be beheaded, but it was their ponytails that fell to the ground.

“Take them away.’” That was Shonsu, to a chalk,faced Fourth.

“Nnanji!” she said. “What’s happening?”

He looked almost as grim as Shonsu. “Slavery. He’s ordered them sold.”

Oh, no!

Jja, dressed again, rushed forward, clutching at her owner’s shoulder, saying something. He hurled her away without a word. She sprawled at Lord Tivanixi’s feet, and he bent to help her up.

“Nnanji!” Thana shouted. “They were only playing! They weren’t going to do anything more. Stripping a pretty slave is—it happens all the time!”

He hardly looked at her. “Shonsu is liege. Whatever he says, happens.”

The whole tryst was cringing, she could see, and now Shonsu had opened his fury wide. He was speaking to Tivanixi, but he could have been heard down by the docks.

“How many sleep in the lodge?” She couldn’t hear the answer, but the castellan was pale, too. “How many are billeted?” It looked as if Tivanixi didn’t know. “Very well! You take that side. Zoariyi, that one. Jansilui, Boariyi—I want to know how many dormitories on each wall, bow many men they could hold, and how many other rooms can be cleared of junk. Move!”

The four Sevenths plowed into the crowd and, as it opened for them, ran. Then that human thunder roared again: “Linumino? Take a party of Sixths and inspect all the nearby buildings. Are there any mat would make dormitories—halls or empty warehouses? Move!” Another Seventh ran.

“Everyone! Those of you who sleep here, go back to your rooms and clean them up! They’re pigsties! Clean floors, clean windows, bedding neatly rolled, packs tidy! There’s going to be an inspection, and may the gods help those who don’t pass! The rest of you stand by for work details to tidy out the other rooms. You! Go and do the council room! You! Start on the stairwells.”

“Come on!” Nnanji whispered to Thana and led her over to Jja, who was weeping. “Look after her.” Then he vanished, following Shonsu.

The two women found a stone bench and sat down. The courtyard was clearing, but the turmoil of men running in all directions made it seem just as full as before. Nobody seemed to know what was happening.

A little later Katanji appeared, grinning rather jumpily.

“Congratulations!” Thana said calmly. She had her arm around Jja, who was sobbing on her shoulder and didn’t seem to want to do anything else, ever again.

“Thank you,” Katanji said smugly. He sat down on the bench.

“Third? How the devils did you manage that?”

“I’m not sure!” He looked bewildered and was trying not to. There were red rims round his eyes; his face was drawn. He yawned suddenly, and she guessed mat he had not been to bed. “I think it was Nanj,” he said. “They were going to make him a Seventh, and he refused unless they promoted me; I think that must be what happened. I had to promise to team the sutras, and they made me a Third.” He smirked.

Thana found this part of the events rather amusing—Nnanji, who was so prickly about rituals? “What about the swordsmanship? What happens if you get challenged?”

A strange expression came over Katanji’s normally cheeky face, one she had never seen on it before. He gazed down at his cast for a minute. “I can’t move my fingers, Thana. I don’t know they’re there unless I look. I’ll never hold a sword again. I promised mat, too.”

She said she was sorry, she hadn’t known.

“It’s all right. I’d never have been any good, anyway. Nanj didn’t know that sutra until now, see? Nobody does except Sevenths. But you know Nanj and sutras—tie said if courage counted... and you heard what Shonsu said about me last time

we were here? So he had to agree, and the others wanted Nanj a Seventh.” He sniggered. “Unanimous! A First can’t own things —but a Third can!”

That hadn’t stopped him before. She fingered the pearls round her neck. He noticed and scowled as he always did. Then he laughed, and the old mischief twinkled in his eyes again.

“That was small stuff!” he said mysteriously. “Look, I’ve got to go. Business!” He jumped up and vanished into the confusion. She caught a glimpse of him running out the gate.

Two hundred golds’ worth of pearls—small stuff?

The courtyard was much emptier and quieter. Then someone shouted warning. A stool came off a balcony and exploded in splinters on the paving. A broken bedstead followed it. Other balconies started raining old furniture and bundles and boxes and timbers. Clouds of dust came whirling around. Suddenly the courtyard was full of falling debris. Jja recovered enough to sit up, sniffing and red,eyed, and watch the display.

Nnanji appeared out of die fog, grinning. He had his seventh swordmark, but be still wore the green kilt.

“What the gods is going on?” Thana demanded.

He sat down beside her and hugged her negligently. Sex was rarely far from Nnanji’s mind, but for once his excitement was corning from other things. “Housecleaning!”hesaid. “There’s lots of room here to hold the tryst, but Tivanixi never organized it. A couple of the floors are unsafe, but mostly the place is one big junk heap. Shonsu is organizing. Clean out and clean up! He’s threatened to flog the next man he sees with a dirty kilt, so half of them have stripped completely—you want to leave, or stay and enjoy that?”

Thana glanced at Jja. “We can dump the bundle and go?”

He nodded. He was grinning hugely. “I’ll look after it. But you’re going to miss a lot of fun. Now he’s talking water supply and hygiene and latrines and cooking! He’s going to sell all the slaves Tivanixi bought and buy more bedding and stuff with the money. He’ll make the juniors do the cooking and cleaning. Only swordsmen are to be allowed in at all. Even the heralds will need escorts!” He laughed. “Glad you’re not his vassal?”

She studied him in surprise. “You don’t think that those things are beneath a swordsman’s honor?”

He shook his head. “Not in battle! Not once the third oath has been sworn! There are sutras on all of them. He’d have us in tents if the money was available, I think. They haven’t had enough to do. Thanks, Jja.”

Jja’s face was a desolation, her face swollen, her eyes raw with weeping, but she stared up at him in astonishment, and he grinned again. “He lost his temper! He needs to do that more often. Now they know they have a liege lord!”

“But, Hon—Lord Nnanji? He sold those two swordsmen into slavery? He hates slavery!”

Nnanji frowned angrily. “By rights he should have killed them! It was good for the tryst, Jja. They disobeyed orders from their liege. He should have killed them, really; I would have done. But I suppose the others are more shocked by slavery; and their mentors have each had one rankmark blotted and are in charge of nightsoil removal until further notice.” He snickered. “I’d never have thought of that!” Then he turned to watch the torrents of filth pouring off the balconies and the hills of refuse rising below. “Some were pretty scruffy. Almost as bad as the temple guard, some of them, anyway. Not many.”