The Destiny of the Sword (41 page)

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Authors: Dave Duncan

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Novel, #Series

BOOK: The Destiny of the Sword
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“Accept the first two on behalf of myself and Lady Doa. Refuse the two that conflict. That sounds like local politics and I won’t get involved.”

Linumino had opened his eyes to listen. He closed them again. “Lords Tivanixi and Zoariyi have both sent Sixths asking about the leather.” The eyes opened.

“Damnation!” Wallie said furiously. “We’re going to have to pay! The old bitch threatened to up anchor and leave, taking the sorcerer with her!” Brota had not merely brought a shipload of fine leather to Casr, she had then bought up all the stock in town and cornered the market. Now she was demanding four hundred golds, and nothing Wallie could say would budge her. The two of them had conducted a roaring, screaming row the previous evening, ending with the children in hysterics and the sailors hovering threateningly near the fire buckets. The liege lord’s fiat ended at the water’s edge.

“Unloading will be tricky,” Wallie said ‘The sorcerer might be tempted when she docks; you look after it yourself. You need some fresh air. Take the money and plenty of men. You ought to meet him, anyway. He’s a fascinating old rogue.” And last night

 

he damned nearly got the steam engine out of me.

The adjutant nodded, then closed his eye once more.”Lord Tivanixi reports another collar bone, and a First had his foot trampled. He’ll have the whole tryst hi splints soon, my liege. No further cases of belly cramps.”

That was good news! Cramming the whole tryst into one building tempted the god of epidemic, who was a far greater threat to any army than its enemies would ever be.

“The new rules about boiling water are being observed?”

“Apparently, my liege. The water in the west well is down another cubit, and the east well about a hand.”

That was bad news! Well digging was not in any sutra; it was slaves’ work, and Wallie had sold off all the slaves.

“Lord Jansilui reports that he has sent recruiters to Tau and Dri hi search of fletchers, falconers, and birds. He asks if he may also send to sorcerer towns and, if so, whether he should seek help from Lord Nnanji.”

“Yes, he may send. Not swordsmen, obviously. Try priests, or traders. Tell him to ask Honakura. Bypass Nnanji’s network. Recruiting can’t be secret.”

“Yes, my liege. That’s all the messages. Outside Jhere’s a deputation... of port officers, I suspect.”

“If they won’t state their business, I won’t see them. If they are port officers, tell them to come back in a week. A little more fasting won’t hurt them.”

The adjutant smiled briefly. “The two Sixths accused of brawling... Lords Nnanji and Zoariyi have judged the case and sentenced them both to twenty,one lashes with the cat o’ seven tails. The sentence awaits your confirmation.”

“Damnation!” Wallie said again. He sprang up and wandered over to stare out the window. “I want new drapes here and another lamp. Both?”

“Each accuses the other of starting it, I gather.” Linumino had risen also, automatically. “The witnesses disagree. The judges concluded mat Ukilio started the fistwork and Unamani drew first.”

Wallie thought for a moment. “You have a herald handy?”

“No, my liege.”

“Call one while I talk with Katanji. Anyone else urgent?”

 

The adjutant said mat the rest could wait. He went out. Wallie strolled back to his chair, glanced at the bed with its brilliant new cover, and sighed. He spent almost all his days and nights in this room. His visits to Sapphire were becoming rarer and briefer; be had not slept on board for four nights now. He slept in this room. Alone.

Then he rose and smiled as Katanji entered. They had been meeting socially, but not speaking business, and now Katanji was certainly business. His two new facemarks were barely healed, but he had a passable ponytail, its curls professionally straightened. The clip was a gold griffon. His brown kilt was crafted from expensive suede, his boots shone. He wore a harness, but it supported his cast, not a scabbard. Katanji was prospering.

He glanced around the room approvingly, lifted one of the bright new hangings to chuckle at the ancient sword,cut in the paneling behind it, then made himself comfortable on a stool. “You sent for me, my lord?”

His look of innocence would melt marble.

“I did. It’s very clever, Katanji, but it’s taking too long. We need them now! I understand you have thirty,seven.”

“Thirty,one after these last three, my lord. I’m trying to speed things up—Honorable Trookro just goes and chooses the ones he wants now. That saves arguments. We’re getting another ten in today, though. Good ones!”

Wallie admired his brazen impudence. “You know you nearly got thrown in jail, don’t you? Tivanixi sent Trookro out to buy horses that first morning, and you’d tripled the price before he saw the first blade of grass. They all assumed that it was Chinar,ama’s foul work. Then they started a witch hunt among the Sixths who’d overheard me telling Tivanixi to bring a saddler out to the ship. They didn’t know I’d mentioned horses earlier, when you were around. Then they wouldn’t believe that a First—even when he got a sudden promotion—was capable of organizing it. I had to argue that you weren’t sworn to me tryst, and therefore what you were doing was not treason, only good business!”

Katanji smiled tolerantly and said nothing.

“Who’s your partner?”

Without a blush, Katanji said, “Ingioli of the Fifth, my lord.

 

 

Normally he deals in nigs, but he knew some good horse traders.”

“Obviously! Was he surprised to see you again?”

Katanji grinned and nodded.

“Another thing,” Wallie said. “It’s getting too obvious! To start with you kept it out of sight. Now, I’m told, you just turn up with a bunch of kids, and the swordsmen flock round you like ... like...” He thought of ice,cream carts, but they would not translate.

“It’s love at first sight!” Katanji protested, swinging his legs. “Very touching!”

“Love?” Wallie echoed hi horror.

Katanji’s innocence became even more heart,wanning. “Did you not know about fee girls, my lord? There were four weddings last night and five the day before...”

Now Wallie could not hold back a roar of laughter. “Horses for dowry? What sort of marriages will they be, Katanji? How long will they last after the tryst is disbanded?”

Katanji’s shrug was a reminder that he never worried other people’s troubles for them. “I ran out of sons.”

“You’re running a slave market!”
          
/

Katanji’s eyes narrowed at this intrusion of morals into a business discussion. “The swordsmen want mounts. Tivanixi gets a man mounted and a spare horse. The ranchers get twenty golds, more for something special, like a four,year gelding with good legs. The tryst pays nothing—well below cost! Parents are getting sons in the craft and daughters well married. All those rich folk go creepy at the thought of swordsmen grandsons. Who loses?”

“Not Swordsman Katanji, I’m sure.”

“If you want to speed things up, my lord... you’ve been rejecting too many! I admit that Olonimpi is poor material, but I thought that the others would pass.”

“They won’t,” Wallie said firmly.

“Three horses apiece?” Katanji said hopefully. “That would be two dozen of the thirty,odd, right there. I’ll make it four for Olonimpi. He couldn’t be any worse a swordsman than I was.”

The nerve of the kid! Wallie had no idea which candidate this inept Olonimpi had been, but obviously his family was rich.

 

“No,” he said. “I’m not going to lower our standards. How much just to buy the thirty,one horses?”

“More than you can afford!”

Wallie jumped up—and Katanji did not even flinch. Anyone else would flinch for Wallie nowadays, but Katanji had summed up Lord Shonsu a long time ago.

“You know that Tivanixi wants to go and help himself? A cavalry outing?”

Quietly Katanji said, “Pitch?”

Wallie sat down again. Pitch? He had not even thought about pitch yet, but it would be essential for the catapults.

The boy had read his face and was trying not to look smug. ‘There are two thousand, four hundred and eighty,one barrels of pitch in Casr, my lord. Brota has eight hundred and twelve of them. The rest are mine.”

“And barrels of pitch are easier to hide than horses?”

Katanji smiled.

“We have a torture chamber under mis lodge.”

Katanji shrugged. “You promised the sorcerer... do you only torture your friends?” He turned his charm on again. “I didn’t think you would stoop to stealing our horses, but Ingioli was nervous and wanted insurance. Just as well, because that was how we discovered what Brota was doing. We were too late on the leather, but she’s going to burn her fingers on the pitch.” He gloated.

Now Wallie was apprehensive, as he was supposed to be. “How much are you going to charge us for pitch?”

“I’ll throw it in with the horses,” Katanji said generously, “if you’ll take those rejected candidates, and if the elders will grant a certain trader a ten,year monopoly on importing rugs into Casr. Thirty,one horses and sixteen hundred,odd barrels of pitch! And Brota can eat all of hers!”

That was a tempting thought after the previous evening’s battle, as Katanji had known it would be.

“These rejected candidates?” Wallie said thoughtfully. “Would they make priests?”

Katanji’s pupils dilated. “I didn’t know you could—“

“Honakura might manage it. A monopoly on silk rugs for five years wouldn’t hurt the poor.”

 

DAVEDUNCAN

A frown came over Katanji’s face as he calculated. Then he said, “The pitch, all forty,one horses, eight priests, six priestesses, all rugs for five years, and Olonimpi a swordsman.”

Honakura had said twelve—he would have to manage fourteen.

“Done!” Wallie said. “Except for one other thing.”

Katanji raised a wary eyebrow.

“You tell me—on your honor—how much Olonimpi’s family will pay you.”

“We have a deal?”

“Yes. I’ve already spoken to Honakura,” Wallie admitted, “and I can certainly bully the elders.”

“You won’t tell Nanj?”

“Gods, no!” That would create a riot... or worse?

“It’s more than the others...”

“How much?”

It took longer to get that information than it had to get the horses, but eventually Katanji reluctantly muttered, “Twelve hundred.”

“Get out of here!” Wallie roared, trying not to laugh and not succeeding very well. “Arrange with Trookro to pick up the ponies—and this Olonimpi lunk had better go in the cavalry.”

Katanji understood, and chuckled. He paused at the door. “It would help if you would pull in your scouts, my lord. They drive up prices—the ranchers are whipsawing us.”

“Go! And tell your brother I want to see him.”

Wallie rose and followed Katanji out to the antechamber, feeling as if he’d been wrestling bulls. Twelve hundred! Olonimpi alone had covered the syndicate’s expenses. All the rest would be profit—thousands! But forty,one mounts at no cost to the tryst...

Linumino followed as the liege lord marched along to where a twitchy young herald of the Third was waiting beside the two captive Sixths.

Two Sixths, wearing black eyes and swollen lips and surly expressions. It had very nearly been a murder charge for one or the other of them. Ukilio had led his own troop of frees, a large one. Unamani had been reeve of a big city. Good men both, yet they had reacted with hate at first sight, for no known reason.

Wallie could sense their antagonism, when he looked at one, the other snarled.

He wasted no time on formalities. “Who’s Ukilio? So you’re Unamani? You’ve heard the sentence?” They nodded impassively. How could a man be impassive when facing that sort of demolition? “Do you know what twenty,one lashes will do to you?” Wallie did not, but he could guess. They nodded again.

“I don’t like it,” he said. “You’ll both be useless for a year, perhaps evermore. I’d rather have one whole Sixth than two half Sixths.”

There were still two dozen people waiting in the room. They all stiffened in apprehension.

“What I want from a Sixth is leadership, so I’m going to give you a leadership test, a competition. The winner will get one lash from the loser. The winner may then lay as many strokes on the loser as he chooses, he can flog him to death if he wants.”

The victims were startled. Then they looked at each other. The puffed eyes narrowed, and the swollen lips curled hi minor image.

“Lord Linumino,” Wallie said, “will give you back your swords and two golds apiece as expenses. You’re going to dig wells. Here are the rules. Herald, you will proclaim these at the next two meals. Lord Linumino will chose sites for digging and sites for dumping, all dirt must be removed from the courtyard. You may buy the tools you need and recruit no more than twelve men each. You may take any man below the rank of Sixth. You may not interfere with each other’s teams or excavations, or you will be disqualified and declared the loser. One day’s penalty for every injury. The holes must be shored all the way. I shall appoint one judge and you may appoint two each. The first team to recover a full barrel of water is the winner.” He turned to Linumino, who was grinning—a horrible sight. “What other rules do we need?”

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