The Shasht War (42 page)

Lady Yeleelm tried to keep some sort of spirit going. For a while the tongues wagged furiously as the "I told you so" party had its say. Aeswiren had not paid enough attention to religious duties. He had not been seen in the temple for many years. The Great God would not be denied forever!

Others argued more gloomily that Aeswiren's real fault had been good governance, which had upset the priests, for it left them more exposed for the expensive, wasteful luxury that they were.

Those who were the most closely identified with Aeswiren and his grand project of repeating the prosperous era of Norgeeben had gone quiet, withdrawn into their own thoughts. A dangerous time lay ahead. Aurook was hardly the popular choice for the next Emperor. Repression would be intensified. Red Tops would visit households to seek out the impure of thought. Anyone with close affinities for Aeswiren's regime would be at risk.

Aunt Piggili caught Simona's eye, and Simona hurried to her side, where the table had partly emptied upon the astonishing news from the city. Piggili was plainly very worried.

"Simona, dear, your father..."

"I know, dearest aunt, I know. I pray that he had time to go into hiding."

"As bad as that, then?"

"Yes, Aunt. The priests do not want his work to continue. He threatens their grip on the Empire. He will be on their lists."

Piggili shuddered. She had been in the city once when the Red Tops went on a purge. It was before Aeswiren, in the time of Shmeg. The excuse was the hunt for the heretics of Xamf. Those same heretics that later challenged Aeswiren and were destroyed for it. But the Red Tops had used the excuse to burst into the homes of the well-to-do, who were known for their attachment to liberal causes. With malicious glee the Red Tops had smashed statuary and damaged wall hangings, letting the liberal lords and ladies know that the priests had their number and that one day, someday, there would be a reckoning. Piggili would never forget the horror of that time when she had hid from the rampaging young thugs as they tore up her parents' house.

"What will you do, girl?"

"I do not know yet, dearest aunt. I expect I will try and hide. But why would they come after me? I am not a scientist."

"But you are a heretic! Believe your ancient aunt when she tells you that they will want to kill all the heretics. This will be their best chance for years."

"What of yourself, dear aunt? Will you stay at the zob?"

"Only for the festival. Then I will go to Baldeberr to be closer to my other kin. It will be safer for me, I think."

The party ended early. Simona left when she detected signs that the main crowd was about to depart. She rode back alone in her carriage to the zob, thinking furiously the whole way.

The fact that she was at the zob for the festival had been accepted as perfectly commonplace behavior by everyone she knew. She caused less stir this way than by trying to hide at the zob and starting slaves' tongues wagging. The rumor mill was a constant fact of life among the zobbi. But if Aeswiren had really fallen from power, then everything had changed. If she stayed at the zob, she might draw the attention of the local priests, who would be eager to suppress heresy and deviation. If she hid herself too obviously, that would also cause comment and might even motivate some disgruntled slave to speak to the priests about her. Either course might be dangerous.

She would have to make a very careful decision. She decided to sleep on it, and study it all carefully the next day before doing anything.

She could also plan to go into hiding, in case it became necessary. Faithful Shalee would help. Hilltop House would be the best place. Close, it was hidden in winter by miles of deep snow, but she would need supplies taken up there. Flour, oil, dried beans, sausage, all these things needed to be brought secretly. Gods, she realized, Shalee would be essential. Fortunately, Shalee could be trusted with one's life, the old eunuch was utterly faithful to Filek and Chiknulba, and by extension to Simona. But beyond Shalee, others would have to know: the drovers who took donkey loads up to Hilltop, the housekeepers who would clean and set up the rooms. The house had been shut down for winter, of course. It was only opened up in the summer. Simona could not do these things for herself. She would have to travel up there in the purdah carriage and stay hidden out of sight.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, she hardly noticed the dark clouds blowing in from the southwest. A wind picked up as they turned onto the road that ran alongside the Lake of the Woods. Now waves rolled across the lake, and the stars disappeared under the first tendrils of the clouds.

But when they turned into the zob and felt the sudden chill in the wind, she knew things were changing.

"There may be snow yet. Perfect for the festival," said Shalee as he escorted her inside the house.

Snow would keep the Red Tops in their chapter houses, for a while at least. It would gain her some time.

"A messenger has come from your father."

Shalee handed her the letter from Filek and discreetly left her alone.

She broke the seal and read the words, then consigned it to the fire as she was bidden. She knew how dangerous such a letter could be now.

"I will speak to the messenger," she told Shalee.

In his message Filek had expanded on her need to hide. Hilltop would not necessarily be enough.

She entered the purdah box and sat beside the slot. She heard the door open, and the young man was shown inside. He took his seat on the other side of the inch-thick wood that protected her from view, or any other act of maleness.

"Thank you for bringing that message."

"My duty, ma'am."

"What will you do now? Return to the city?"

"Your father said it would be best if I did not. He suggested that I go to my own hometown, Turz."

"I see. Yes, that would be a good idea. The priests may come looking for anyone connected to my father."

"They will not find me in Turz. I will become a different person."

"What was my father's mood when last you saw him?"

"He was most determined to succeed, ma'am. He was sad, goes without saying, but I could tell that he did not intend to allow his work to be suppressed forever. He will have copies of the plans. I have copies, too. There are many copies now. The priests will never find them all."

"Take good care of them. We do not know how long it will be before the great work can be resumed."

Bidding young Pers farewell, Simona took some mulled ale and thought about the message from her father.

He urged to go into hiding. She should use Hilltop as a first step, and she should have the lodge on Mount Beegamuus made ready. She should use only the most trustworthy of the servants. Shalee was good, but others could not be trusted with this.

And so once again her life had been shattered.

Shalee knocked at the door.

"Mistress Simona, I must report there is a stranger, perhaps a spy, that's been seen on the edges of the zob for the past two days. Jokk the grounds keeper has seen him, but he says the intruder is wary and knows how to hide."

"A spy?"

"It could be, I cannot say."

"Shalee, I will need to leave the zob. I must go to Hilltop."

Shalee scarcely blinked. He was already primed for the emergency.

"Yes, Mistress Simona, I will see to it."

"Lips must be kept sealed about this."

"Only the most trustworthy will know."

That night it snowed, a light coating of feathery flakes, enough to bury the leaves and drape the branches in glittering white. When she awoke the day was clear, and inspired by the view from her window, Simona decided to take a ride in the park. Her favorite mare, Silvery, was readied.

After breakfasting and speaking privately with Shalee, she went to the stables. From there she rode out into the park, wearing the heavy hooded cloak of purdah, but daring to ride on a man's saddle, with her legs around the horse. The air was crisp and cold on her cheeks. Silvery was happy to canter along the path along the lawn, with the woods just to her right. She exulted in the freedom she felt out of the house, under the blue sky. The snow muffled Silvery's hoof clops and allowed Simona to imagine that the world was completely silent and that time had stilled its furious rush.

She reached the end of the long lawn, where the sloping ground had been terraced for a cut flower garden for the house. The path lead across the lawn and then either back to the main house, or on through a trellis that gave onto the riding trail out toward the Lake of the Woods. She was tempted to ride down to the lake, but she needed to go back and pack for the move to Hilltop. She still hadn't decided which robes to take.

Suddenly a figure appeared out of the snow-covered brush ahead of her.

"Simona?" it said.

She jerked the reins and pulled Silvery away, spurring across the lawn's smooth coat of snow. A Red Top, hiding there, waiting for her! Terror had exploded in her heart.

The figure ran after her.

"Simona!" it called again, and there was something uncanny about the voice. She knew that voice. She slowed Silvery and looked back.

The figure stood with hands outstretched. She turned back, cantered closer. It was a man, no not a man, a slight figure, a face that she knew. With stunning force it hit her, it was Thru Gillo.

Nuza stood on the sterncastle of the frigate
Duster
. Away on her right, beneath a yellow crag, lay the city of Gzia Gi. The city of false hope for Aeswiren.

The land in view was harsh. All red and brown rock. Over the city hung a reek of smoke from the many chimneys. A chill wind from the east blew the smoke inland to pool beneath the crags.

Nuza remained astonished by the barren nature of Shasht. There was not a tree to be seen here. She thought back to the meetings at the Questioners that she had attended. Sometimes she had sided with those who had posed questions about the restrictions that kept the mots and brilbies from expanding their farms over more of the land. When so much of the land was left wild it meant that mots and mors had to restrict the size of their families. The whole culture of the Land was bent beneath such restrictions, or so it seemed to Nuza back then. Now she saw what could happen when a people bred beyond the limits of their land.

She turned back to the sea. In its profound vastness she sought comfort. Somewhere out there, far, far beyond the horizon, on the opposite side of the world lay the Land. Merely looking off into the distance like this brought up thoughts of her family, of Thru, of the troupe members, Toshak and old Hob, and indeed, her former life. Questions that could not be answered arose like serried tombstones. When she'd been captured, the war had reached Sulmo. Since then she had learned the war had gone badly for the men. Toshak had driven them out of Sulmo in complete defeat. How things went now, a year and a half later, was unknown, since no more ships had returned with news. She could only pray for victories for Toshak and his mots. Maybe the men had decided to leave the Land and either return to Shasht or to hunt for another place to colonize.

And then the sadness would well up again. For even if the Land survived, Thru Gillo did not. After the disaster at Farnem, Thru was listed among the missing. But his body was never found. Nuza had clung to the faint hope that he was still alive. Now, more than a year later, she had accepted that Thru was probably dead. That opened a void in her heart that she was sure would never be filled again.

Simona had described a little of what she had felt before her attempted suicide. Nuza looked at the waters below. Before, she hadn't really understood such a deep despair, but now she began to get an inkling of it. It seemed at times that her life had really ended on that terrible day at Bilauk. In the smoke of the charnel house of that village her future disintegrated. Everything that had happened since had been merely a step down toward the abyss that awaited her now.

Even her affection for the Emperor would be turned into a knife thrust into her heart, for as she stood there she knew that Aeswiren, her dear friend, was discovering the depths of betrayal from his supporters from the city.

Nuza had known from the first words of the city emissary, from the uneasy way he had spoken. Aeswiren's last bastion had been turned by the same treachery that had taken his throne.

Nuza had one last hope, but she was unsure if Aeswiren would be prepared to listen to her.

In the great room below, things went much as she had imagined. Aeswiren stood at one side of the rectangular table that filled the center of the cabin. On it was an unrolled map of Northern Shasht. Gzia Gi lay at one end of the map. Shasht itself in the center.

"No, my lord, the situation is more complicated than that." The speaker was the Baron Thruam, a close supporter of Aeswiren's. Thruam and three others stood on the far side of the table.

"You see, my lord, the priests began their preparations here years ago. They have built up a network. Several of the richest landlords have gone over to them this year."

Aeswiren wanted to groan at this news. Grimes had blocked this information from reaching him. Or had Hesh been corrupted, too? In the aftermath of that horrific struggle with the former First Finger, he had to wonder. Now, with everything in ruins, Aeswiren would never know how deeply his organization had been penetrated by the priests. He did know that his positions had been smashed, and easily, too.

Another noble joined in, the Duke of Palia. "More important even than that, though, is this army marching here from Shasht. Bishop Bodo at its head, too, which does not augur well. Bodo is notorious for taking almost anyone for the knife."

Palia was feeling very nervous. His family had held their lands for many generations. Bishop Bodo was a noted tyrant. Many would be taken for sacrifice to the Great God when Bodo assumed control. The duke did not wish to be among them or to see his family lose everything.

Aeswiren looked around him, with eyes still filled with shock. To learn that so many had abandoned his cause so quickly had taken him by surprise. He had thought he might deserve a little support in return for what he had given the folk of Shasht for more than twenty years. But no, it was not to be. The bad news had followed him from Shasht. The Lords of Aeblan, Vemey, Darfola, and Gimms had all gone to pay fealty to the new Emperor, Aurook, who had taken the imperial name of Norgeeben II. He'd learned this before even reaching Gzia Gi, when a passing fishing boat had given them this news. Norgeeben II was now the advocate for the people with the Great God.